


Freedom in Chains

by SilkCut



Series: Keys to the Kingdom [1]
Category: Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Fate/stay night - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, Dangerous Habits, M/M, Masochism, Mind Games, Sadism, Second person POV, Sexual Tension, Some dub-con stuff, WE ALL NEED MORE KOTOGIL IN OUR LIVES, sexual awakening
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-05-23 22:33:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 44,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6132307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilkCut/pseuds/SilkCut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirei Kotomine loved no one, and cares only to witness the searing moment when the world burns once more upon his instigation. Gilgamesh cannot love anyone but himself since losing his only friend eons ago, and so participates in a war in order to kill time, seeing as it provides him with enough entertainment. </p><p>With goals that both perfectly align and are parallel with each other, both priest and god-king have lived together for a decade in mutual co-existence. In doing so, they learned things about one another they would rather not have known at all but were secretly amused to have discovered anyway. Ultimately, their relationship evolves and devolves until neither man could really claim he was ever in control of it in the first place.</p><p>An AU route set in a series of flashbacks and present events. Told in switching second-person POVs.</p><p>
  <b>[ NOW OFFICIALLY ON HIATUS ]</b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [briewly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/briewly/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kirei is _not_ jealous.

 

 

++++++

 

**Blindsided**

 

++++++

 

 

The first time he starts calling you ‘Kotomine’, you felt a sense of unease, the kind of disquiet marked with annoyance and shame. You did not understand his sudden shift to formality when addressing you; and the rather impersonal reference to your person was unexpected only because everything about Gilgamesh wants to claim and initiate an intimacy in a level that would drive lesser men mad.

For ten years, he had crowded your breathing space, taking you apart piece by piece only so he could put you back together in ways he thought would please the both of you.

Sometimes, if you were being honest, you would admit that he knew what was best for you, more so than any other patriarch who pretended to understand you. For Gilgamesh had known you intimately, knew which broken shard of you can cut the deepest and which ones are poisoned and deadly. He has peeled you back to reveal the cloying darkness, and helped you weaponize what others would have considered spoiled and rotten. He was—and still is—in many ways, your Creator.

But now—now he starts calling you with your late father’s last name and no longer by your mother’s ironic choice of a first name. _Just as well_ , you thought, after a few more instances of this. It began happening more often that you finally stopped letting it bother you. You’d like to attribute it to the fact that Gilgamesh has been distracted lately because of Saber. With the presence of that damnable woman, everything else for Gilgamesh has become inconsequential for there is only the pursuit of possessing her. This doesn’t upset you. It shouldn’t.

After all, it couldn’t possibly be deliberate. You are sure that if Gilgamesh became aware of how he changed the way he was addressing you that he would correct that slight mistake in an instant. A few more weeks passed and he never did.

You won’t point out this blunder because you know Gilgamesh would not appreciate the insolence, so you focused on what was more important and ignored the tightness in your gut whenever Gilgamesh is in the same room with you but won’t even look at you, at least not as much as he did years ago when you were the most riveting object of interest he had ever beheld.

You would ignore how Gilgamesh kept his distance, how he would no longer run his fingers on your crucifix in a gesture both absentminded and purposeful as he no longer looked deeply into your eyes as he whispered his observations that usually contain stunning revelations that were aimed to liberate your character.

You would ignore the hollowness in your chest that had always existed even before you met Gilgamesh, but somehow that emptiness was greatly punctured with the awareness that your Creator—a decade after he had filled that same hole with something akin to real feeling—had ceased to give a damn about you.

You ignored these stirrings long enough not to begin loathing Gilgamesh. You would not loathe him for installing himself indiscriminately in your daily life; you would not loathe him for hoarding you all to himself for so many years only to discard you now that he has encountered a more superior and challenging replacement.

That would be childish. That would imply that you actually cared whether or not you meant something more to Gilgamesh other than the role of a Fool you had vowed to play to keep him entertained while he remained tethered to this world. You are not arrogant. You do not possess an ego or a vanity that would make you believe otherwise that Gilgamesh actually considered you as an equal.

You were not upset by this.

 

++++++

 

 

This was true because one night, when Gilgamesh did bother to stop by the church, probably because he was feeling generous enough to grant you the opportunity to be in his presence again, you welcomed him instantly, quickly shaking off the foolish doubts you had about your alliance prior to the meeting itself. He sat in one of the pews with his legs folded in the lewdest pose that still managed to be gratingly graceful at the same time. Gilgamesh slouched and folded his arms behind his back, and the audible sound of his breathing was an indication that you weren’t hallucinating his presence. And this time he actually looked at you again, not _through_ you, as he had done for weeks since Saber’s arrival, while he spoke about her, asked you questions about her, all the while with a dazed expression of joyous relief on his face that looked far too malicious to be considered earnest.

He made a passing comment or two about Shirou Emiya as you stood there gazing at him, and if you were in a more indulgent mood you would have opened up and told Gilgamesh about the delightful fantasies you’ve been having about said brat. But he caught you in your most pensive hour when verbalizing your thoughts prove to be a futile, useless activity for you at least for the time being. Gilgamesh narrowed his serpentine gaze at you for a few seconds before he rolled his entire body to face you. He moved seemingly boneless, and it was as if the pew he was sitting on was made of water rather than something solid. He smiled in that familiarly vulgar way he does as he informs you that certain pleasures that you beseech will be satiated once the storm worsens and sweeps away everyone and everything in its calamity.

Quietly, you asked him in all seriousness whether or not he was referring to the Holy Grail War or himself. And Gilgamesh only laughed in response. The sound was once again familiar, and you relax your stance upon hearing it.

Gilgamesh has gotten up, eyeing you with renewed curiosity. You’ve forgotten how the King of Heroes’ mere presence has a tendency to lessen the silence. It was a silence you grew up in that used to make you feel so uncomfortable, as if you have something to be afraid of, like monsters that will take you away if you’re not careful to fill those gaps with prayer and devotion. It was a foolish, uneducated belief that your father had nurtured when you were younger, possibly to further reinforce his holy doctrine on you. Now you know the truth; there are no monsters wanting to prey on you because now you are the predator, and this role grants you the power to transform yourself into the very nightmare other children would fear.

The silence still exists, however, and Gilgamesh’s presence was the only thing that makes you forget about it. Gilgamesh forces you to focus on him entirely that you could ignore almost everything when you have conversations together. This was probably the one thing you miss about him when he’s not around. But you won’t admit it because it sounded childish and weak and stupid. You don’t miss people, even if Gilgamesh could not be considered as ‘people’.

“Kotomine,” he calls you now, crossing his arms as he leaned his weight against the pew behind him. “You look more glum than the usual—I’ll say even more glum than I remember in weeks since the War began taking shape weeks ago. I thought it pleased you to encounter Kiritsugu Emiya’s pitiful excuse of an heir. Why do you look less than celebratory about this?” Gilgamesh looked annoyed because he couldn’t figure it out for once, “Don’t be stingy and speak up! Tell me what ails you.”

You chose that moment to try and irritate him. “It surprises me that you would even notice my change in moods, King of Heroes. You and I have been seeing each other less, and I was under the impression that you are too preoccupied with your engagement with Saber to even spare me a thought or two.”

“You are trying to imply something and refusing to be direct about it,” Gilgamesh instead remarked, frowning now. “You know I don’t tolerate your reticence anymore. It seems to me, Kotomine,” he took a few languid steps closer, “that you have forgotten that I know you better than anyone including yourself, and I can assure you that even when I am not close or standing right in front of you as I do now, I still think of you; especially when it comes to what your filthy mind is up to.”

You smirk at the affirmation that he does, after all, think of you. “If you do know me better than anyone, then why can’t you figure out for yourself why you believe I’m being glum right now?”

“Enough,” One moment there was still a few yards that separated the two of you, and the next Gilgamesh was already clutching the collar of your garments, pulling you down slightly so you two can stare at each other clearly. “I don’t like you withholding from me, Kotomine. Don’t test my patience.”

You merely stared into his crimson eyes and said nothing. Gilgamesh loosened his hold for just a minute as he continued to speak.

“Consider the earlier years before we have established an alliance,” he explained, “and think of those times as some sort of…courtship. After you and I forged a bond as Master and Servant, think of that as the moment when we made our relationship an official, functional one. A marriage, if we wish to keep the metaphor consistent.”

You only blinked at him. You still didn’t say anything even if the very metaphor he was using to illustrate his point somehow didn’t sit right with you.

“With any marriage, there should be an open channel for communication and a willingness for compromise,” Gilgamesh reached out his other hand to touch your cheek, cupping it in his palm. You tried not to flinch away. You didn’t exactly want to, anyway, and the thought should repulse you but Gilgamesh’s physical proximity was something so ingrained in you at this point that his nearness shouldn’t be so shocking. And yet…

...his touch lingering on your skin does make you feel sick, though not of revulsion.

So what is it...?

You willed yourself to focus on what he was saying next. “And you and I have enough experience over the years of our partnership to understand that as long as we remain honest with one another, misunderstandings or petty conflicts can be avoided.” His hand on your face lowered on your throat and now both his hands are flexing around your neck as if he wasn’t sure whether or not he was going to choke you. “Now, tell me, Kotomine. Do you want to nullify this beneficial arrangement of ours, this co-existence of mutual interests? Is that why you are being stubbornly vague? Are you suddenly so confident that you can get what you desire the most that you have no qualms of getting rid of me?”

“What makes you believe I am hiding anything from you, King of Heroes?” You make no move or attempt to try and physically respond, knowing that your immobilization would at least give the notion of subservience. “And this talk of yours—you’re starting to sound paranoid and insecure. Those are not qualities that I would ever associate with you, King of Heroes. But now you exemplify them.”

Gilgamesh snorted. “Your insults are misplaced because I know you are merely trying to deflect from the issue at hand by thinking your hollow words could offend me.”

He tightened his grip on your throat but you still kept your eyes fixed intently on his.

“So the very notion of me keeping secrets from you makes you angry?”

“But of course, Kotomine,” he was smirking now, “It shows defiance against me and I will not stand for it. You don’t get to act so high and mighty around me.”

“I think, King of Heroes,” you finally place a hand on top of one of his which are still clutching your neck, “that you mistake me for a certain blonde knightress.”

His eyes darkened, if it was even possible, as he lowered his hands from your neck and took a step back. For a while he said nothing and he just stared at you with open repugnance. You didn’t coil from that and instead continued to hold his gaze.

Then, Gilgamesh smiled with a kind of smugness that you recognized from the past as a cusp between condescending and insane. You start feeling uncomfortable.

“What is this?” he remarked, still grinning, “Do I detect a hint of jealousy?”

That gave you pause. You don’t even know what ‘jealousy’ entailed. It was an emotion, that you understood, but like most emotions, you have never felt it. You are sure of it. Your short pause apparently was long enough to confirm Gilgamesh’s ridiculous accusation, however, because now he started laughing, bending down slightly to clutch at his stomach.

You feel the need to defend yourself, “I wouldn’t know how jealousy feels, Gilgamesh. You can’t possibly think I would have an inkling of an idea about it, let alone feel it, especially towards Saber. That would mean…” you trailed off, your eyebrows furrowing, signaling your frustration because there was something you couldn’t figure out all of a sudden. But you tried to explain again, “…that would mean I feel entitled to you as if you are my lover. And as unusually befitting it was to call our partnership a marriage, it remains one that is borne out of pragmatic reasons as oppose to anything else. I don’t…I can’t be jealous.”

Hearing yourself say it especially following the logic you had imposed made the possibility that you were ever jealous sound even more absurd and stupid.

Gilgamesh finally stopped laughing. He was just grinning at you now.

“It’s not true,” you repeated again, this time with more conviction.

“I see,” Gilgamesh simply answered.

What an asshole. You gritted your teeth together and refused to say anything as well, just glaring at the offensive creature standing in front of you, acting as if he had discovered precious knowledge that he can once again lord over your head.

“Well,” Gilgamesh began, “I suppose you want me to leave.”

You narrowed your eyes at that.

“Clearly, you can’t stand the sight of me,” Gilgamesh remarked, “Not when it serves to remind you how much you covet but couldn’t have me.”

“That sounds like something that Saber herself would say to you,” you shot back, not caring of whatever wrath you may incur by being disrespectful to the King of Heroes. It was more mercifully preferable than his current treatment of you.

But nothing could foul Gilgamesh’s good mood at this point. He was still smiling. “All right, Kirei, no need to be unpleasant. I’ll leave you to your contemplations and empty prayers for now. But I’ll be here tomorrow. How does brunch sound?”

“It sounds horrifying, coming from you. I have never heard you use such a modern expression, nor even suggest partaking in it yourself.”

“Hybrid mealtimes are an odd invention of these times, Kirei, but they provide me with enough amusement that I could tolerate them here and there.” He ran a hand through his golden locks as he said it, exuding confidence that is at once painful and embarrassing for you to witness. You almost wanted to look away.

You don’t trust what he just said. You don’t trust anything about Gilgamesh anymore.

Said detestable creature paused, widening his smile before he asked again, “So, would you like to have brunch with me, Kirei?” He posed that question with a tone that implied that you cannot possibly refuse him, that you wouldn’t dare.

So you didn’t. You simply gave him a grave nod and waited for him to take his leave.

As soon as he did go away, you find yourself overcome by sudden fatigue so you sat down on one of the pews, resting your entire weight on it.

Though not exactly an optimist, you allowed yourself to look at the bright side: at least Gilgamesh started calling you again on a first-name basis.

But, somehow, that return to old habits wasn’t comforting either.

There was just something _different_ about the way Gilgamesh addressed you with your first name earlier, and the fact that you couldn’t put your finger on it filled you with yet another wave of disquiet that no amount of false prayer is going to appease.

 

 

++++++

 

 

**Eight years ago**

 

You watch in reflective silence as Gilgamesh empties a bottle of bourbon by gulping down the last quarter of its contents for a full minute without pause. He then wobbles slightly as he walks to your direction before he slowly collapses on the sofa next to you. He makes a pleased sound at the back of his throat as he lays his head on your shoulder, obviously unmindful of his actions, as he presses harder until you had no choice but to move your body to accommodate him more space. Instead of his head falling on the sofa’s cushion, however, Gilgamesh opts to rests his head on your lap and he curls his body into a position akin to that of a tired cat. The surprisingly accurate comparison almost makes you choke back an amused laugh but you remind yourself just in time that you shouldn’t make fun of the King of Heroes even in his most drunken state, even if he is sleeping contentedly below you like he has done this many times before.

This is the first time you have seen Gilgamesh drunk to a point that he just couldn’t stand upright anymore which is why he is now resting on your lap. It’s eerie, and it doesn’t seem right. You don’t know how else to react, though, so you stay still.

This is also the first time you have seen him in a very vulnerable position. The origin of myth rubs his head against your lap repeatedly, probably trying to get cosier in an otherwise awkward pose, and then lets out a huff of dissatisfaction when he doesn’t find it. In response, you grab the nearest pillow on your left and then place a gentle hand below Gilgamesh’s head to keep it suspended for a while as you carefully slid the pillow on your lap. Once you’ve accomplished that, Gilgamesh willingly drops his head on the pillow you prepared, and he lets out another pleased sound, murmuring something that accompanies your name. Intrigued, you ask him about it but he simply rolls to his back so you can see more of his face. His eyes are actually only half-closed and he regards you with a small smile. You stare into those eyes and wait for his response.

And Gilgamesh just chuckles, coughing as he did. You lean back slightly, dismayed, and find your hand resting on his stomach absentmindedly. You quickly snatch it away but Gilgamesh grabs your wrist and forces your hand back down.

He commands you, “Rub me until I fall to slumber, mongrel.”

You honestly want to start laughing at him because this is absurd. Gilgamesh is clearly not thinking at all, and the instruction itself is preposterous and not as intimidating as Gilgamesh would have liked. Still, you oblige. Slowly, you moved the palm of your hand across the plane of his stomach. You could feel his abdominal muscles clenching at the contact, even through the coarse thickness of his gaudy animal-printed shirt. You hear him grumbling so you tear your gaze from the designs of his clothing to peer back at is face which twists now in what you guessed was annoyance.

“Not like that,” Gilgamesh’s voice is barely a whisper and he speaks as if he is in a hurry. “Like how you would pet an animal, you imbecile.”

You fight the urge to ask if the King of Heroes now views himself as a pet and simply obey by cupping your hand slightly so that your fingers curve on top of his stomach. You use more of your fingers now, instead of just your palm, as you repeat the languid motions enough until it warrants a rather pleased moan from Gilgamesh.

His head sinks further into the pillow while he brings up his legs so that his knees pointed at the ceiling. Gilgamesh keeps his eyes closed now but you could tell he is still very much awake. You keep stroking him as you slowly allowed for your mind to go blank. This is so much like prayer; a mindless ritual that could be relaxing if you focus enough. A few minutes passed and Gilgamesh is guiding your hand lower and you watch as your palm settles on his crotch. Thinking nothing unusual about it, you continue performing your task, and stroke him down there in the same rhythm. You think this is what the King of Heroes wanted and you didn’t exactly feel there is any real reason to deny him.

His growing erection doesn’t faze you. It is a curious thing to witness Gilgamesh’s corporeal body express such a normal human reaction such as this one, but it wasn’t entirely impossible. You squeeze him by his crotch, testing the tangibility of it, and you hear his breath hitch a little as you do. A few more seconds pass before Gilgamesh suddenly sits upright, brushes away your hand from its placement, and takes the pillow from your lap. He gets up from the sofa, barely looking at you and still wobbling from his drunkenness as he announces, “I’m taking possession of your bed. Rest here.”

He leaves. You remain where you are, both dumbfounded and very amused. You stare down at the hand that touched the King of Heroes so intimately a while ago and you feel slightly...enlightened. Is it possible that Gilgamesh felt violated by the unexpected direction of that massage? Was that not what he was asking for you to perform? You allow yourself a small chuckle as you slouch a little so you can lean your head against the ledge of the sofa. Closing your eyes, you try not to think about the almost sheepish way Gilgamesh stood up and left, as if he was overcome with shame for almost letting his control of the situation slip.

What you wouldn’t give to see the King of Heroes truly lose more of that control.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kirei learns to obey.

 

 

**++++++**

**Natural Disaster**

**++++++**

 

 

 

**Three days after the End of the 4 th Holy Grail War**

 

 

There are two things Gilgamesh asked of you after he gained corporeal form.

First was for you to take him to an airport so he can experience air travel for the first time. If you were going to leave Japan, then you decided that it was better to take him to Europe. Italy was supposed to be your main destination since you already have a residence there, a villa that your late wife picked for the both of you to live in. You can actually picture Gilgamesh settling in nicely with the spacious rooms of that villa.

But instead of coming home to Rome, Gilgamesh made you take him somewhere else. He stood in the airport lounge and pointed at the flashing signs above you, and his finger happened to land on the words PRAGUE. You were going to argue, but then Gilgamesh started walking to the nearest airline ticket counter and you had no choice to but to indulge him. After explaining to him how the seating in planes work, he demanded that he should be in First-Class, and you thought it was rightfully so, and not just because he is the King of Heroes, but more so because you know he cannot be interacting with many ordinary people, lest he offended them or—worse—they end up offending him.

You traveled without any disturbance, seeing as Gilgamesh slept through the entire journey as soon as the airplane got over its initial turbulence and he had finished his scotch. He announced to you that he planned on tasting every alcoholic beverage there is, and then he told you to have some scotch for yourself. You did because refusing Gilgamesh is a habit you don’t want to start having if the two of you are to co-exist from this point on. During the rest of the flight, it struck you how, for a powerful demigod from ancient Mesopotamia, Gilgamesh hardly reacted to anything that should have been new and foreign to him. He remained unfazed and almost stoic—if not secretly bored— about the events he saw and heard while riding in the cockpit. He only spared a glance at one of the attractive flight attendants who served him his alcohol, and smirked at the two men in business attire who sat on the opposite corner, arguing about corporate matters.

Aside from that, Gilgamesh paid little attention to the rest inside the plane. It impressed you how he managed to fit right in as if he had been a part of this century all along. You kept your eyes on him for a while as he dozed off in his seat, stretching his legs as far as they would go. There were only twenty passengers in First-Class and all of them, at one point, gazed at the sleeping figure of the god-king. You guessed they were probably mesmerized of his beauty, and you can’t help but share their fascination, albeit for different reasons. Gilgamesh is an endless source of interest and you do admit that there is a growing excitement rising from the black depths of your soul just thinking about all the new ways Gilgamesh could entertain you, as you could entertain him.

You eventually landed in Prague. It was a place you were barely familiar with, but Gilgamesh didn’t care. He stayed behind you the entire time as you guided the two of you from the airport to the railway station. People spoke in English and Czech mainly, and you can communicate in the former fairly enough, so navigating the place for the first two hours was fine. You were able to book yourselves into a hotel smoothly but before you could settle in your rooms, Gilgamesh decided to do something else and went by himself outside, and you had no choice but to follow. It occurred to you that Gilgamesh was going nowhere and yet you were willing to give it a few more minutes before you would ask him to return back to the hotel. Unfortunately, Gilgamesh found a house in the outskirts of town which seemed to appeal to him. You didn’t understand why, but when Gilgamesh ordered you to let him inside, you had no choice but to break in.

The family who occupied this house must have been on a trip, judging by the vacant garage space and a few of the cabinets that you inspected in the bedroom which were missing some essentials like clothes and shoes. When you came upon Gilgamesh in the kitchen, he was raiding through the refrigerator, throwing away random plastic containers while placing a few on the table. He was already consuming an apple and a bar of chocolate by the time he emptied the fridge. He saw a bottle of ketchup and tasted it. He said something under his breath and then began tasting the other condiments. In the end, he had gone through every edible thing he can find through the house.

He didn’t eat everything but rather sampled each food by nibbling on a piece or licking it. If he liked the taste, he would consume it. Otherwise, he would just discard them aside and went on rummaging the next shelves.

It was while you were watching him explore the house for something to eat when Gilgamesh asked you for the second thing.

In a casual tone, he told you to sell some of his treasure so he can acquire money to spend on the luxuries of the modern world. With a swift motion of his hand, he unloaded certain hefty possessions and antiques from his treasury. He merely muttered—with a mouthful of leftover pasta—for you to take care of them.

You hardly said anything since you got here, opting to watch him squeeze ketchup on the pasta and then eat it. It would have been comedic for somebody else, but it didn’t make you laugh. Instead, you stood in quiet subservience amongst his treasures which Gilgamesh essentially laid out inside the living room, uncaring that there wasn’t really enough space to begin with. The large ones crushed a few chairs and broke some plates. The small chandelier in the ceiling was pierced by what looked like a harpoon made of fine steel and decorated with gems.

Gilgamesh barely surveyed the totality of the havoc he just inflicted on the house as he leaned back on a purple reclining chair, popped open the bottle of champagne he got from raiding a locked shelf (he kicked it open, shattering the glass), and poured the champagne inside an orange mug that says _World’s Best Dad_ before handing it to you. Meanwhile, the King of Heroes drank from the bottle itself and then started playing with a cell phone. You recognized that it belonged to that flight attendant from earlier who showed to him how it worked as soon as he woke up from his nap, and he called her over to talk to her.

You guessed that it was either Gilgamesh stole it (which he wouldn’t think as theft in the first place), or she gave it to him voluntarily.

You suspected the latter.

After all, Gilgamesh did take a rather long bathroom break during the flight, and then he came back to the seat looking smug and satisfied. You remember peeking through the curtain and seeing the said flight attendant whose pristine uniform was obviously dishelved. She looked rather pleased with herself as well. You tried not to roll your eyes at how tacky that was as your gaze landed back on Gilgamesh who was just sipping whiskey and watching you with a predatory smile, probably enjoying your obvious disapproval.

You were pretty sure that you wore the same expression now as you looked from the ensemble of heavy trinkets scattered around you and back to the god-king who had left them out in the open like a child would do after he was done playing with his toys, expecting for someone to clean up after him. You did not sign up for nanny duty but apparently that’s what the origin of myth requires.

“Gilgamesh,” you said, “How am I supposed to carry out all of these?”

In response—and without once looking up from the cell phone—Gilgamesh simply snapped his fingers and the bulk of his treasure was sucked back into his Gate. Some of the cabinets unhinged completely upon the departure as the small chandelier shattered to the floor. Neither of you flinched from the impact. You merely flicked the glass from your clothes while Gilgamesh glanced at the direction of the explosion with his cell phone hovering above the space where the broken thing lay. You heard the sound of the camera shutter and you can’t help but really, this time, roll your eyes out of impatience.

You cannot help the sigh of exhaustion that escaped your lips. “The next time you reveal them in a different location,” you remarked, “Please don’t pull them out all at once. I don’t think we could find a bigger room for all of them.”

“Yes,” Gilgamesh answered but his tone was dismissive.

The King of Heroes had no problem living in disarray and chaos and had easily marked his newfound territory by almost destroying it. And that’s how the two of you ended up squatting in that house for a whole week. You tracked down the family by the third day and paid handsomely to keep them away, using some savings from the inheritance Tohsaka apparently left in your name. You supposed that as much as killing your mentor was a happy accident, it was still nice to benefit financially from his murder.

 

**++++++**

 

 

In Rome, it took you six grueling weeks; contacting prestigious museums and negotiating with investors and private collectors—most of them astounded by what you are selling them—but eventually you did get rid of the treasures and antiques. Gilgamesh acquired a hefty amount of sum in payment which, after your careful calculation, reached to around three billion in Euro. You suggested for Gilgamesh to apply for a bank account, and he just looked at you without saying anything first and then he asked, “Would the currency be readily available at my fingertips whenever, wherever I need it?”

“Yes,” you answered and then you explained how credit cards work, how money works, how commodities were sold and paid for, and other things you consider would be important, but you were only five minutes into the lecture when Gilgamesh stood up and pointed at the large bean bag in shape of a lion that he had been sitting on.

“Do you remember how I got this?”

Of course. You bought it for him when he insisted that he wanted to have a lion as a pet, and you had to explain to him that it’s not an easy process to purchase an exotic animal and that there are permits, that there are certain legalities they have to follow—

“You’re not answering the question, Kirei,” Gilgamesh remarked sternly, stepping forward to grab your crucifix and tug it forcefully so you’ll pay attention.

“I bought it as a substitute for a live one.”

“Exactly,” Gilgamesh narrowed his eyes. He tugged the crucifix some more and you had to follow the movement by leaning in. The King of Heroes looked displeased about something and before you could ask, he was already saying, “A substitute. Do you think a mere substitute is what this king deserves, Kirei? Do you think this king should listen to you prattle on about jargon as if he is a child you need to lecture and impose rules and limitations on? Is this how you would constantly treat your superior, a deity and warrior? By boring him with this talk about things that are of no consequence?”

You waited for him to finish his soliloquy. In your mind, you already have ready retorts to justify yourself, such as the fact that you are simply offering him pragmatic knowledge whose aim is to be of service to his royal pain in the ass, and that if he was going to live in this modern world he despised so much, he should at least learn to adapt. All of these valid points would probably give rise to a heated argument, so you decided against speaking them aloud even if you felt like it was the most dignified way to handle this, because it would be futile and counterproductive in the end. Gilgamesh will never listen especially when his self-importance is being challenged or questioned. Besides, he is the last person you want to have any kind of squabble with.

“Gilgamesh,” you answered instead, lifting one hand to place it on his fisted clutch wrapped around your crucifix. “I find your other complaints hard to take seriously, considering that I know for a fact that you can barely part from that bean bag I bought for you from the moment you received it.”

He didn’t even care to deny it. Instead, he asked haughtily, “Where do we buy slaves to do all this dreadful work you call ‘pragmatic’, eh, Kirei?”

You were about to explain to him for the _third_ time that there are no slaves that he could buy unless he wanted to do it illegally (and you had strongly advised against it), but Gilgamesh remembered having the same discussion at the last seconds and glared squarely at you, as if to warn you not to bore him again with the details. He let you go and sulked back into his bean bag. You were going to ask him about what he wanted to do with his money and explained to him that you transferred it by wire into the account Tohsaka opened under your name as a temporary place to save it. Gilgamesh said nothing. You took his silence as agreement and left him to his own devices.

Three days later, Alenka, one of the villa’s part-time maids, and a well-built Slovakian woman in her fifties whose housework you’ve always been satisfied with, came to you to inform you with the most startling news. Gilgamesh came home last night dragging the fresh cadaver of a cow and he had hacked and sliced his way through it in the guest room where you put him in, forever tainting the luscious white carpets. Your late wife Claudia loved those carpets. You asked Alenka to rip them out and burn them.

You found Gilgamesh roasting big portions of the cow’s meat the next day by the fireplace right in the living room. An assortment of blades is on the floor beside him, all of them crusted with dried blood. The stench lingered in the chimney for days. And just like that, the King of Heroes turned Claudia’s precious upper-class villa into a putrid, primitive abattoir—a real home.

You and Gilgamesh dined on the charred and bloodied beef he lovingly prepared for the next two weeks.

You have never been more content or full.

 

 

**++++++**

 

 

**Ten years later**

 

 

Your stride is languid, and each step you take is heavy, dragging your weight around as if it is the last thing you want to do, and it probably is. Ahead of you, Gilgamesh is merely gliding in the usual cavalier way he does, creating the illusion that he’s not even walking, like the ground is unworthy of experiencing his sacred feet. But his feet are indeed touching the ground but it’s so easy to forget that when everything else about Gilgamesh remains ethereal in spite of his very much corporeal form. You could only watch his back as you refuse to quicken your pace, perhaps still hoping that he will change his mind.

It is your birthday and Gilgamesh wants to do something to celebrate it.

So he hires a prostitute for you to have sexual congress with. The bastard didn’t even do you the courtesy to send the whore to your shared living space and is instead bringing you to the red light district where the sordid establishment of his choice can be found.

You never made a habit of refusing Gilgamesh before, so now there is really no other choice but to follow him inside.

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kirei indulges.

 

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**After Tonight**

 

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You have never been inside a whorehouse, but you know enough about the destitute life of transactional sex usually entailed for the impoverished women who were forced to sell their bodies for livelihood. There was a brief time when you were fourteen or so, when you joined your father during his missionaries to several countrysides of Europe, and you became indirectly acquainted with such womenfolk. You felt a little pity for their state, and asked your father if they were a part of the mission too, and he merely looked at you with a soft though neutral expression when he explained that they were beyond help. You argued—for the sake of stretching the discussion for no other reason than to see how he will react—that Christ has taught that no one is beyond redemption as long as they turn away from sin and ask for forgiveness from the Holy Father.

Amused, your own father patted you on the head and chuckled. Speaking slow as if he wanted to ensure you understand everything he was saying clearly, he iterated that women are the root of carnal sin, and that since the beginning of time they have always caused the downfall of men through the sins of flesh and excess, ensnaring them with deceptive promises and the like. It was why they were punished with the pain of childbirth and why they must be subservient to men. You ask then if the same thing could be said about the Virgin Mary and other female saints. Your father responded by explaining that these women have been chosen by God, and that was the only reason they did not end up becoming foul creatures that the rest of womankind was doomed to be. You nod your head stiffly, proclaiming meekly that you understood.

You did not, and as you grew older and became more aware of the emptiness in your person—when you married and lost Claudia and did not feel a damn thing—when you saw the slain corpse of your father and regretted not killing him yourself—you understood and even took some solace in the truth that both men and women sin in equal terms and all of humanity is doomed to fall. Evil recognizes no gender or race or social contract. It defies reason and comprehension. It is pure chaos; an indiscriminative and utterly consuming entropy that preys on any weak mind and willing heart.

Gilgamesh seized you by the arm, though not unkindly, and you were shaken back to your current predicament. Before you could say anything, the god-king leaned in to whisper in your ear, “You have to be the only man in the world who would step inside a place where beautiful women experienced in the arts dwell…” he lowered his tone into something near scandalous and you imagine that he suddenly grew a forked tongue as he finished his sentence, “…and look as if you are walking to your execution instead…”

The latest scent of whatever horrid perfume he preferred for this week surrounded you, like mist—almost choking you—especially given how close you two have been standing together as your eyes glided across the expanse of the room. You didn’t fix your stare at anything your mind can process or register, refusing to commit any of this debauchery into memory.

Gilgamesh knew what you were doing, of course. He cupped your chin and turned your face to meet his gaze. With this uncomfortable angle, all your sight could zero in on were Gilgamesh’s serpentine ruby eyes, the smooth arch of his pale nose—his steady warm breath against your lips. Like a prey caught in your predator’s trap, you dare not to move a muscle. Gilgamesh’s clear-manicured fingernails dig into the skin of your chin with more pressure as he spoke.

“You’ve fucked a woman before, have you not?” he was saying, “Surely you could do it again. Better yet, this time you are not even bound by some sacrament to fertile her womb. So if you worry about some bastard in the future, running around due to your indiscretion—” he leaned in an inch closer until the only thing separating your mouths were his words leaving its ghost-like imprints against your lips, “—rest assured that I selected a woman especially incapable of giving you one.” He stayed that close to you for a few more seconds.

You could feel your eyelids fluttering shut in spite of yourself.

Gilgamesh pulled away as easily as he crowded your breathing space just moments ago, and when you opened your eyes to look at him, he was just smirking and gesturing at someone from a corner.

The room that the god-king took you to was showered in red light and tendrils of languid acoustic music flowed from everywhere at once. He had you drink something before you entered, and because of your built-in never-disobey-Gilgamesh was in full setting that night—of all nights—you didn’t even hesitate as you swallowed the cauldron’s contents. It was only when you were staring at the cauldron in question that you’ve realized your mistake but by then Gilgamesh had already pushed you to a nearby sofa which reclined too steeply that it was almost a bed. You forcefully tried to sit up and realized that yes, it was a bed after all, one decorated with an abundance of throw pillows that it was amazing how anyone can actually sit, let alone lie on it comfortably.

You can hear Gilgamesh laughing close. You turned your head sharply at the sound and found him conversing merrily with a woman. She might have already been naked or simply scantily-dressed. It didn’t matter. You were getting out.

“Shhh…” Gilgamesh was upon you, a hand stroking your hair as if you were a pet.

You slapped it away and demanded. “Did you drug me?”

“Oh, nothing as tedious and cheap as that,” Gilgamesh replied, his other hand was moving to touch you until his fingers were tracing your chest through the fabric of your shirt. You looked down at it, unable to come up with the right reaction. Gilgamesh kept whispering into your ear now. “What you drank was a simple concoction to heighten the senses. It will make you feel…shall we say…”

He was tracing your jawline with his lips as he murmured, “… _vampiric_?”

You fisted your hands on the pillows beneath you and tried to squirm free but Gilgamesh was forcing you down again until you were on your back and he was hovering above you. His eyes never looked more diabolically red and filled with intent. You were so angry and murderous that you think you can actually kill him. With all the strength that you have left, you sprang forward and wrapped your hands around his neck, throttling him as you did.

Even while air was being cut off from the passageway of his throat, Gilgamesh looked pleased. He laughed, raspy and broken, as he gently placed both hands on your wrists. You loosened your hold when you realized that this wasn’t what you wanted but that regrettable action was costly because Gilgamesh used your hesitation to pin you back down the bed again. You were feeling woozy and disoriented, and Gilgamesh had rested his full weight on top of you. He was clutching your wrists in an iron-clad hold. You were losing the fight.

“Calm down, Kirei,” he sounded almost consoling, “The more you resist, the longer we’re going to wrestle and bruise each other. Under other circumstances, I would be game for that. But you should know by now that we are unevenly matched. You are strong and do possess a high threshold for pain, but you are mortal and not part-divine as I am. If I desire it, I could crush you…”

He tightened his hold on your wrists to demonstrate his point, and the bones do feel like they were about to crack if he added more pressure, which he did not. Instead, Gilgamesh pulled you up to a sitting position while he straddled you on your lap, as the rest of his legs wrapped securely around your hips. You were far too busy trying not to puke to take consideration the humiliating way he had made himself home around your body; like the treacherous snake he was.

“Listen, Kirei,” Gilgamesh was murmuring onto your ear again. “I paid this woman—” he nodded at her direction, “—and this establishment very handsomely. They cater to all kinds of desires here. And she and I have a quaint little arrangement for ourselves concerning the wealth I will bestow to her relatives as soon as she fulfilled her end of the bargain. I signed some papers and all. That makes it an official, binding contract, yes?”

He whispered these words as if he was puncturing them not just through your skin but through your consciousness.

“The deal I struck is this,” Gilgamesh pulled away and looked you directly in the eye, “you shall take her with as much violence you want. And then kill her.”

You could feel your pulse racing now. As angry and annoyed as you still are, you’re finally learning to understand the purpose behind this birthday present.

You for one never understood birthdays. Why is there a need to celebrate every year the day concerning your expulsion from the uterus? 

“Do you understand, Kirei?” Gilgamesh was petting your hair again.

You nod once, licking your lips due to the parchness in your throat, and the anticipation of claiming what Gilgamesh was truly offering.

“Good…” Gilgamesh leaned in again and caught your jawline between his lips and teeth. His fingers continued to stroke your hair. “Kirei…” he murmured against your skin, its sound and heavy promises leaking through, echoing across your flesh. The flickering sensations on the rest of your body were almost electrical. You knew it must have been that damn concoction’s effect.

The god-king withdrew, pausing to stare at you for a while as his other hand continue to trace your chest with gently probing fingers. You have seen Gilgamesh rip out hearts before and it occurred to you briefly that perhaps this was what the other man was contemplating right now. You wondered briefly if you’d let him do it. Would you be able to keep your eyes open as the origin of myth eviscerates you? Would you be able to enjoy the sight of your blood encrusting his fingers as he pulls out the blackened organ from your chest, which would possibly still beat for a few more wretched seconds before it was extinguished forever? Will you die by Gilgamesh’s hand with a smile on your lips?

“Well, look at that! You look quite smitten and entranced, you filthy-minded priest,” Gilgamesh laughed and shook his head, thoroughly amused. “Has the excitement quelled nicely in your gut by now? Has the blood traveled down south and completely took hold of the rest of your senses?”

You heard the woman giggle from the corner. You ignored her and asked in all seriousness. “Your so-called vampiric concoction—does it have anything to do with inflicting an unwilling body with an erection?”

Gilgamesh grinned. That was all the answer you needed.

“I should hurt you…” you warned him, lowering the tone of your voice to match his. Your hands found purchase on his hips. You dug your nails deep into his skin. “I should get up and massacre everyone and then burn this whole place down…” You watched him lean close and hover his lips upon yours.

“Idle threats,” Gilgamesh whispered back. “Now, do you accept your gift?”

“Will you watch me, King of Heroes?” you inquired, pulling away your face to look him in the eye, “Will you watch me as I take your whore of choice and defile her? Will you enjoy it? Will it please you if I…” you pushed Gilgamesh slightly away so you can reach down and clutch at your own hardened cock. “…burrow myself in her cavernous passage, and pull out the rest of her from inside out so I can then drench her entrails with my eager sword?”

You don’t know why you’re speaking like this. You have never spoken like this, let alone think such depraved thoughts. Sex was never an interesting activity to you either, but Gilgamesh had such a profound effect in the way he has taught you to deconstruct how you understand certain things, even the mundane, to acquire the hidden pleasure within—all sick and twisted delicacy.

“Yes,” Gilgamesh looked just as ripe for the taking as you now feel. “Show me, Kotomine. You vile priest. You two-faced fool of mine.”

He cupped your face with both hands and pressed his lips close to yours, licking them in languid strokes. You did not dare part your lips for him, but Gilgamesh did not care. His hot tongue twirled between you, nibbling and tasting you without partaking fully. You gripped his hips more tightly and squeezed your eyes shut as you drank in this sacred moment. Pliant and sensitive all over, you shoved him off without warning, and walked towards your ready prey.

As you claimed her by her throat like you would a stray mongrel, you glanced at Gilgamesh, and the god-king grinned so wide it almost took over his entire face as if his mouth was mutilated to stretch that unnaturally. You snapped your head back to the woman, and she was smiling at you as well. There was nothing that striking about her except that she had blonde hair which was bleached so white it looked almost like silver. Her eyes must have been blue.

You wished they were wine-red like Gilgamesh’s, or like your late wife’s—or even have the same fiery shade as the eyes of that homunculus harlot.

Thinking yet again of Kiritsugu Emiya left you flushed and even more aroused.

No matter, you thought. This whore would soon bleed enough for you.

You’d be the artist of her destruction and Gilgamesh’s creation, and bathe this entire room with the luscious glow of crimson, and scatter around it choice cuts of her hollowed guts.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kirei reminisces.

 

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**The space between**

 

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The mattress feels too soft under your weight that you dimly began to regain consciousness. You have always been more accustomed to sleep on cemented or wooden floors after all. The first thing your eyes settle to is the frosty window that was just three yards away from where you slumbered. Even from this angle you could discern the paleness of snow gathering outside. Instinctively, you reached out for the blankets around you and pulled, but found yourself struggling and yanking hard instead. You jerked your head to the direction of whatever was impeding the blankets and saw Gilgamesh sleeping by your side. You blinked, both in weariness and mild annoyance, and pulled the blankets some more until you were finally swaddled in a decent amount of warmth in spite of the unwelcome guest in your own bed who hoarded everything. Still vaguely annoyed, a whole minute passed before it even occurred to you that this wasn’t exactly your room. This wasn’t exactly your house.

You began remembering details now. You remember Gilgamesh wanted to hunt. He brought too many artillery and was far too trigger-happy than you expected as he shot and maimed through various animals. You remember the great expanse of woods you trudged through as you tried to keep up with the King of Heroes, carrying the three or four dead rabbits he dangled around your shoulders. You remember the sun disappearing from the horizon in an explosion of flaming orange and faded pink, outlining the curves of the mountains where it descended down to. Gilgamesh called you from a distance and when you got to him you saw that he had found a rather gorgeous cabin. He had already broken in, and was inspecting the fireplace. Thankfully, it was electrical. The entire place was luxurious enough to accommodate high-end needs, and it was therefore definitely something Gilgamesh readily claimed as his own.

You remember the drinking, and drinking far too much amount of whiskey, cognac and beer because Gilgamesh kept forcing you to keep taking a swig of whatever he offered. You must have collapsed on the bed as soon as you’ve reached the end of your alcohol tolerance because you could recall pulling up the sheets over your face and ignoring the way the world seemed to spin endlessly, darkening your vision. Some time during the night Gilgamesh must have crawled next to you because you could recall him taking the pillow from under your head. The abruptness of the act caused the headache to worsen. You must have kicked him or punched him in retaliation because you could recall him trying to smother you with the same pillow right after as you struggled underneath, but Gilgamesh did eventually stop before he could actually kill you. He probably got tired and dizzy himself and fell asleep.

Remembering all of this, you can’t help but glare at the unpleasant and vile creature who slumbered peacefully by your side as if he had nothing to fear. You could snatch him by the throat and throttle him if you like, but you don’t. Your arms feel far too heavy to do any of that, already exhausted from the yanking earlier with the sheets. Your head still felt sore, rendering you completely useless physically. So you lay there facing Gilgamesh and glaring at him from this short distance. You were separated only by the pillow he was fiercely clinging close against his body, with one leg hooked awkwardly around it.

You reached out for no other reason than to see if he will stir or react to the slightest movement or provocation. He didn’t. Feeling rather bold, you brushed your knuckles through his bangs, watching his face for any sign of regaining awareness. There was none. Still testing the waters, you tried to pull the pillow away as slowly as you could but Gilgamesh didn’t loosen his hold at all. In fact, the King of Heroes merely sighed out deeply and moved closer, curving his body to further enclose the pillow on his body. You sighed out too, exasperated and still annoyed, as you reached out again to squeeze Gilgamesh’s nose until you were sure it will shorten his air just enough to awaken him. A few seconds later he stirred and jerked your grasp away by shaking his head. His eyes remained closed but there were lines forming in his forehead to indicate the impact of your disturbance of his rest.

“Sleep, damn you, or I’ll…” Gilgamesh trailed off, his threat losing steam before it was even properly delivered. You couldn’t help but be amused.

You moved closer, yanking the blankets completely off from him. A moment passed. And then another.

Gilgamesh’s eyes fluttered open far too quickly than you anticipated. He looked angry. You didn’t see his hand shoot off as he tugged the blanket from underneath you so he can cover himself back. You allowed it, but managed to make sure he didn’t leave you bare and freezing. The blanket in question was thick and roomy enough to be used by two people, but neither of you felt like sharing, so both of you wasted another minute trying to take it away from the other. But then Gilgamesh was giggling, which highlighted how ridiculous you’ve been acting— competing with the origin of myth for a flimsy thing like a blanket.

“Good morning to you too, Kirei,” he remarked, reaching out to point at the window behind you. “There was a snowstorm last night, did you know?”

You said nothing. Gilgamesh grinned and, with an uncharacteristic kindness, he surrendered a portion of the blanket by lifting it from your waist to your shoulder, as if he was swaddling you like a mother would do for her babe. The analogy was rather uncalled for so you scolded yourself mentally and turned abruptly away from the god-king. Gilgamesh just hummed, sounding amused.

You felt him pressing the pillow behind your back as his arm reached out and encircled around you, resting it there lazily as if you were not another body but an object which Gilgamesh could do whatever he wanted with. Under normal circumstances, you never would have cared about his abrasive treatment. You have, after all, indulged and endured him for nine years now—oh, has it really been that long already?

“Make me something to eat, Kirei…” he enunciated your name in a petulant tone, almost sounding like a spoiled brat as he tightened his hold on you.

“Give me ten minutes,” you mumbled into the blanket, forcing your eyes to shut. You were still drowsy. An impatient tug of the sheet that followed told you otherwise that Gilgamesh was not concerned about that.

“Kirei…”

“Still tired from last night,” you finally explained.

Gilgamesh let out what sounded like a displeased moan and you suspected that he must have buried his face on the pillow between you because the sound came out muffled. You went back to ignoring him and tried to sleep.

“Come on!”

Suddenly, Gilgamesh pulled the blanket away and straddled you, climbing on top of your body as if it was nothing—like he has done it before. You were shocked to compliance, mouth agape as you twisted around so you could you meet his heavy gaze. Gilgamesh leaned down and placed his palms on either side of your head, grinning smugly at your expression.

“Come on, you useless priest. Feed me!” he almost snarled.

Narrowing your eyes with renewed annoyance, you reached out and covered his face with a hand, squeezing around it as tightly as you could. Gilgamesh merely started chuckling. When he almost shook off your grip and your hand slipped closer to his mouth, he opened it unceremoniously and bit down.

Of course it hurt, but nothing that your threshold for pain couldn’t handle.

Making a deliberate decision, you pulled your hand away, only so you could dive back in and insert two fingers into his mouth before he could close it. He began to choke a little with the invasion but—to your bewilderment—he did not forcibly push himself away. Instead, he looked all the more arrogant as he enveloped your fingers fully into the wet heat of his mouth. You could feel his tongue circling around those digits as if doing so is the most natural thing in the world.

You knew what was happening even before you have a name to define it, or form a coherent understanding of the situation. Once you saw that look in his eyes and felt the familiar pool of dread and excitement at the pit of your stomach, you knew that both of you have once again crossed the delicate line that separated what was recognized in conscious acceptance; and what was begrudgingly denied in latent frustration.

Gilgamesh licked your fingers one last time before you pull them away from his mouth. Neither of you needed to exchange words after that.

The first time something like this happened was during his drunken stupor last year; when he put his head on your lap and demanded you to massage him to sleep. Your hand drifted lower because he insisted, and you obeyed only because you didn’t really care about the kind of service he asked of you then.

And this was why you stayed perfectly still and pliant as Gilgamesh wrapped both legs around you, knees burrowing on the mattress as he hovered on top and stared at your face, and began rocking his hips in smooth forward motions. The repetition was enough to cause heat and friction between your bodies, and you wouldn’t deny that the warmth was welcome and made you even sleepier. But what kept you from dozing off was watching the utterly interesting expression that occupied the god-king’s face as he rubbed himself against you. His pupils were blown and his cheeks were flushed. He was panting slightly as he pressed harder until the rough skin-on-skin contact left your mouth a little dry.

You gripped him by the forearms to support him in case he lost purchase or even think about pulling away. Obviously, he would not do that, not when you could see what all of this was supposed to accomplish—and how near Gilgamesh was in achieving it. It seemed only dutiful to help him reach it. You felt the persistence of his hardness through the blankets and layers of clothing separating you both, but you tried your best not to acknowledge it. You just laid there passively which was easy because you were far too hungover to move too much.

So instead, you made yourself more available by wrapping both arms behind his back and allowing him to rest his entire weight on you now. Your chests collided against one another as the god-king’s increasingly rapid heartbeat echoed right on the spot where yours no longer made a sound.

You listened to his ragged breathing as he implanted his face near the crook of your left shoulder. Staring upwards in blank repose and subservience, you only squeezed Gilgamesh’s forearms in consolation as soon as you felt him convulsing, coming apart as he breathlessly made his way toward that apex. He shuddered and became taut everywhere before he relaxed again and sighed. You swore you felt his hardness throb against your thigh. The thought of that intimate contact sickened you, but it made you catch your own breath as you felt his on your cheek. To have caused this kind of agonizing pleasure for the King of Heroes was a delight to you.

“Are you done?” you inquired, whispering low as you tried to sound detached to it all.

Gilgamesh just hummed in response, breathing softly now as one hand closed around your shirt possessively. He didn’t lift himself up until another full minute. When he did, he collapsed on his back beside you, chuckling in satisfaction.

You took that as a sign of approval and for a job well done on your part.

Unable to fight the sleepiness any longer, your eyes fluttered shut.

 

 

 

**++++++**

 

 

 

The mattress feels too crowded, and the stench was foul enough to stick to your pores like adhesive you can never wash off. Even from this angle you could discern the glow of crimson being emitted from across the walls. A series of scattered glands replaced the pillows on the bed where you woke up from slumber. They stained the sheets and dripped soundlessly from the hems. Instinctively, you reached out for these blankets and pulled, but found yourself struggling and yanking hard instead. You jerked your head to the direction of whatever was impeding the blankets and saw Gilgamesh sleeping by your side.

You smiled.

You remembered the curves of her body as your fingers traveled to map everything in sight, eager to memorize her details only so you could dismantle. And then you shuddered from the delicious sound of her flesh being torn open. You remembered the way her bones cracked—the unraveling—the treasures within. You remembered there was an explosion of red and a shortness of breath; how you sliced and hacked and fucked her dry; and yet in the end you were unable to come at all.

As if reading your mind in that instant, you felt a hand enclose around your cock, alerting you to the fact that Gilgamesh was just as awake and restless as you are now. You twisted your body to turn towards him fully, still smiling. He grinned back and started squeezing you just right, working the shaft with expert fingers.

But then you wriggled your cock free from his grasp, and instead hooked one leg around his hip and then grabbed him violently by the shoulders to press the rest of your taut body against his. After some time, you pushed him down the mattress further and hovered above him, forcing his thighs open and implanting yourself between them. Gilgamesh offered no protestations except for a chuckle as he in turn dug his nails on your back as he adjusted your positions for a better angle. There was only little clothing that separated you both as you rocked against each other; the harsh skin-on-skin contact was making you heave and pant as you struggled to reach the apex of pleasure that has build up in you for a decade. And Gilgamesh was helping you get there.

As you were overtaken by the mind-numbing surge of orgasm, you bit him hard on his neck—near the tender part of flesh where his pulse can be heard the loudest. The god-king laughed aloud now and petted your hair as he did. You tightened your hold of him, refusing to release him.

He whispered something into your ear but you didn’t understand the words. You felt his other hand stroking your spine in an uncharacteristic gesture of kindness. The repetitive, consoling movement was somehow putting you to sleep.

Before moments away from drifting back to slumber, you felt yourself being laid on your back against the mattress, bare body exposed to the wetness of blood and cum as Gilgamesh’s wine-dark eyes met yours before they fluttered close.

You felt his lips descend upon your chest where your heart no longer beats.

You slept.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which both god-king and priest take turns pondering one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I surely hope the timeline is still making sense. It's purposefully muddled and jumping forwards and backwards like a motherfucker, so please bear with it. This chapter has more content and insight, hopefully. Do enjoy and let me know what you guys think so far! Writing a KotoGil fic, I find, is such a delicate process.

 

 

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**And it is beautiful**

 

 

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The mortal man who addressed himself as your master is a magus named Tokiomi Tohsaka. He possessed power and wealth, and clearly belonged to a pristine lineage of magic wielders, but there is something very forgettable about him. To you, this Tohsaka individual simply lacked a presence that could intrigue the King of Heroes and being part-divine, you didn't bother concealing your disappointment. You found it disagreeable to be bound here on earth whilst being linked and sustained by such a boring magus, but it's nothing you couldn't manage to tolerate with kingly ease. Besides, Tohsaka knew his place and did not forget to show the respect you required. And if he fails to uphold this through the end, then you would just have to instill better values in him. Mongrels are foul cur but they can still be taught after all.

And then there was the matter of his apprentice, a man who was oddly named Kirei Kotomine. The namesake was a curious one, as you would later discover. Being deemed 'beautiful' as is the translation of 'kirei' in the man's native tongue? Surely there must be a story to that; to have his parents choose to characterize such a stiff and reticent man as a thing of beauty--it has to be some kind of joke.

So, naturally, you just had to know him.

 

 

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You are a man who sees things better in the dark.

It was therefore an unsurprising conclusion that Gilgamesh would be nothing but a blinding assault. The ethereal figure in question was lounging in a somewhat coquettish manner on your couch, and the languid ease of his stare was as penetrative as a snake's. He must have drunk his seventh bottle of wine tonight, and yet he continued to linger like a persistent scent in the air. It occurred to you that perhaps Gilgamesh could never have his fill.

You don't want to understand at all. The ways of the divine have always remained beyond your comprehension--concealed--unknown. You considered yourself a fairly dutiful man of the cloth, raised to be a promising scholar in an honorable vocation, but none of your duties (both traditional and otherwise) ever brought you closer to God.

You were simply scooped hollow from the beginning. There is nothing underneath your exterior, but the King of Heroes seemed to believe otherwise. He sat there across from you with a hand under his chin. His chest was half-exposed, peeking from the silk shirt he adorned, as if not even buttons could keep him piously clothed. His leather jacket and fur, meanwhile, were draped among the empty wine bottles. You instinctively took a few steps back to frown at yet another one of the Uruk king's rude nocturnal visits.

Because of the weight of his presence, Gilgamesh had somewhat reduced your room into some kind of territory he won in the aftermath of conquest. Unaware of it until now, you never sat again in that long couch after Gilgamesh claimed it as his own. You couldn't explain it but it was almost as if you were compelled never to crowd the other one's space. There is just something about Gilgamesh that hoards and owns because it was a natural given, and it never failed to make you feel as though you were the intruder here and never the other way around.

"You come home less and less," was Gilgamesh's pointed observation. He made no inquiries about your whereabouts. Instead he brought the rim of the glass upon his lips again and tilted his head back as the wine flowed into his mouth. His watchful eyes were on you the entire time. "Now that you're here, alas, you may as well entertain me."

You didn't say anything at first and Gilgamesh pushed no further after that, but his almost unblinking stare was unnerving enough to get a reponse from you at last.

"That would be a pointless endeavor," you said, "I have nothing to offer you, let alone entertainment."

"He speaks in finalities," Gilgamesh might as well be addressing nobody with his tone of obvious derision. But there was a twinkle of amusement in his eyes as he continued, "A man who worships a deity who only seemed to deal with absolutes. How bland. Your religion is a cosmic joke that mortals take seriously when there is humor to be had in condemnation as much as there is in redemption."

"What do you speak of?" You were slowly losing patience but you are too mentally exhausted from yet another missed confrontation with Kiritsugu Emiya earlier tonight to indulge the whims of an arrogant demigod. You didn’t want to engage in conversation.

But Gilgamesh was baiting you for an open argument anyway.

"I've been so tragically bored by my lonesome in Tokiomi's dreadful care. When I started raiding your wine collection, I decided to learn your Catholic doctrine in your written texts," he gestured at the shelves behind you, "and it's impressively well-crafted, the concept of the Holy Trinity and eternal life and circles of hell. The disobedience of humanity and banishment from Eden. Lucifer challenging the will of your God. Brother slaying brother out of mad jealousy. Great floods, demonstrations of power to bring down an Egyptian pharoah to his knees. And parting the Red Sea itself for His chosen people! Such exciting tales of rebellion, of individuality, of grand leaps of faith . To offer the life of your own son without question. To ask a young virgin to raise the son of Your God only to witness his torment upon crucifixion. These men and women that color your stories, who attempt higher purpose and enlightment even if it meant  disappointing your God along the way. And then there were the suffering devouts who believe unquestionably and submit their will to His judgment, ones you canonize as saints, your heroic martyrs..."

Gilgamesh only took a pause to sip his wine. He went on. "I'm riveted, positively riveted, of this piece of literature called the Bible. I have a few more chapters to go. I cheated halfway through and peeked at the last part. Something about Revelations? It sounds promising."

"Enough," You sounded tired to your own ears but you forced conviction in your next words. "I don’t know what you want from me, or why you speak of my beliefs in a cavalier way like they are no more than a fanciful child's version of the truth, but you have to stop."

"You dare command me, Kirei Kotomine?" Gilgamesh leaned close as he placed the goblet down the table in front of him. "Come now, Kirei, why do you sulk? Because I offended you? How? Your soul finds no comfort or joy in adhering to Christianity and its values. In fact, it makes you miserable, does it not, to obey a belief system that you were never entirely convinced could define the contents of your being in the first place?"

"That is what faith is about, Archer." You were inexplicably letting this pointless endeavor go on. Without meaning to, you were once again sitting on the couch on his right. Gilgamesh is naturally irresistible that way, you supposed, much like the Biblical serpent. His words sting but his tongue is honey, enunciating each veiled insult and criticism like he's merely casting an enchantment. And you are allowing him.

What in the sacred name of all the holy hosts is wrong with you?

"We could figure it out together, you and I..." was Gilgamesh's timely offer. For a second you thought he could hear your thoughts but then he added, "…the shape of your soul, I meant. And the pleasure that could define it."

You kept your mouth shut. Gilgamesh moved closer until his knee bumped against yours. You ignored the contact and tried to look somewhere else. Your gaze fell upon the other glass the god-king must have laid out for you.

"Don't deny it," he kept talking as he poured wine onto the glass and you could only stare as the red seemed to have taken a dark glow from where you sat like fresh blood after it had been drained. "You want to know, don't you? And I can show you. So, allow yourself to partake…"

He took the glass from the table and pushed it close to your face. You grimaced at it for a few seconds before you turned your gaze back at him. "And if I refuse you?"

"Don't be mistaken," the King of Heroes replied with an easy smile. "It is only your real self you reject and not I."

"What do you seek in return of this arrangement then?" you shot back with a scoff.

"Only this," he took a swig of the glass he had offered you and then placed it back on the table. He met your eyes again with a more measured intent. "Gladly play my fool and entertain me."

You said nothing in response. Instead, you took the glass and stared into the thick redness of wine. You did not answer his heed at all. Not yet.

But perhaps soon.

 

 

**++++++**

 

 

 

**Five years later**

 

You first noticed the scars when he took off his robes to bathe in the river. You knew the water must have been frigid, but he showed no indication that its temperature bothered him. He glided through the water almost effortlessly, arms cutting through the stream in precise, rapid motions. There was a curving section in the river where the flow seemed to end, the water circling around itself, creating a languid spiral. He stopped there, one palm pressing against a boulder for anchor as he used his other hand to wipe his face. Taking a huge gulp of breath, his head disappeared back into the water. He held the stance for a good five minutes before he came up to the surface again. He did this three times in succession until he finally grew bored and ended up staring up the clear sky instead, his entire body now floating on the water. Only the hand still gripping the boulder was tethering him. He closed his eyes.

You approached in silence and sat on your haunches near the boulder, gazing at his peaceful face and smiling to yourself. You waited until he opened his eyes and found you there, just watching him without uttering a single sound. His expression soured, as if you somehow invaded his privacy of the moment. Your gaze traveled to the rest of his torso, his skin glistening because of the sun’s reflective rays bouncing across his body, making him shimmer quite desirably. You counted three or four more scars on his chest and abdominal area before he must have gotten self-conscious and submerged his body back in the water again. You laughed this time, chiding him lightly.

“No need to be shy, priest,” you said and then demanded, “Come close to me.”

Kirei glared momentarily as he usually does whenever he’s uncomfortable, debating whether to accommodate your request or not. It’s always going to be the same futile resistance on his end that you sometimes wonder why he even bothers putting on a show of defiance that ultimately deflates seconds later. But that is just one of the things that you will never get sick and tired about Kirei. He’s constantly torn between giving in and holding out. It’s a fascinating conflict to watch unfold especially when you it’s you who instigates it most of the time.

The priest in question has swum closer, looking rather sullen and ready to sulk with his half his face buried in the water. This was when you unlaced your shoes but didn’t bother taking off the rest of your clothes. With Kirei watching you in that gratingly neutral way he does, you held his gaze and slid your legs out, slowly dipping your toes into the water. The cold hit you instantly, almost threatening to reduce you into shivers, but you pushed it aside and jumped in, splashing Kirei as you did. It was horribly frigid after all, but you ignored that inconvenience when you saw how much it irritated the other man.

Kirei was openly glaring now and looking like he would rather be anywhere else but stuck in the water with you. If it was any other person who showed such obvious disrespect, you would have inflicted bodily harm on them for acting as if they are nothing but honored and humbled by your presence. But this is _your_ fool who still has a lot to learn about the ways of the world, so you were always in a forgiving, generous mood when it came to him. To show that you took no offense to his sulking, you splashed some more water into his face and his expression crumbled into something rather comedic. He looked near scandalized, unable to respond back, and there was an unmistakable flush to his cheeks. It could have been the hyperthermia, though, who knows…

You hit him with water again, but he just quickly wiped his face with a hand. You did it again, and again, _and again_ until Kirei finally splashed back water at you and then proceeded to swim away. You caught up to him easily and challenged him to a race. You could hear his heavy sigh as he surrendered to your will begrudgingly. It’s always so hilarious to pick on Kirei just to watch him squirm.

You raced four times together, two of which you won. You announced afterwards while you lay on the ground to get yourself dry under the sun that Kirei really only won one race, and that you took pity on him for the other time and therefore let him win. Kirei did not argue with you at all as he merely picked up his trousers to put them on. He had his back turned as he pulled them up, and all you could do was stare at his back littered with more scars, resembling what looked like slashes as if the flesh had been cut by thorns too many times. He had new wounds on top of old, faded ones, and you can’t help but be reminded of conquered lands in ancient maps—each territory has its own unique history.

One day you might care to learn every single one of their stories. No other plaything of yours had been as interesting as the priest after all.

But, for now, you’re more content to watch your precious fool make his choices and then gain more knowledge about himself in the process. Sometimes it would take mere days, sometimes weeks. Either way, Kirei always adapts better than you would expect. He’s always hungry and eager to know what he is and what he wants—always ripe for the taking and to take things for his own.

You have yet to witness the latter, however. But there is still plenty of time.

“You don’t need to hurry,” you said, trying to sound less like you’re commanding him. It’s more fun when he’s willing. “Come lie with me under the sun, Kirei. It’s a splendid day to watch clouds.”

He cocked an eyebrow as he asked, “And the King of Heroes has much leisurely time to waste it on cloud-watching, does he?”

“It’s good to slow down and enjoy simple pleasures,” you simply explained.

Kirei looked unconvinced. He stood there, still shirtless, clutching at his belt which he was getting ready to clasp securely in the middle of his pants. You took some time admiring the well-defined muscular structure of his body again, making no attempt to hide what you were doing at all. You knew he was beginning to notice it, but you were unabashed. Men were rarely an attractive prospect for you, but you supposed there have been specific types whom you had bed back in your day. You remember that you fought and wrestled with them first just for the sake of proving yet again that you have no equal, and afterwards you took them to your bed and showed them all over again why they are beneath you and should remain as such. As exquisitely satisfying it was to have broken in virgins especially brides before their husbands ever could, there is also a thrill to bending another man to your will and having your way with him. There is just something about taking a man like a woman…

You surprised yourself for reminiscing on that blurry part of your past and all because you were contemplating Kirei’s aesthetic appeal. Feeling rather foolish for allowing your thoughts to run amuck, you lifted yourself up by the elbows and asked Kirei instead, “Do you have pressing matters to attend to?”

“No,” he replied, clasping his belt at last. He reached down to pick up his shirt.

“Then stay and lie beside me, priest.” You patted the grass beside you.

Kirei stopped midway from reaching for his shirt when he recognized your commanding tone. You knew he was finally considering it.

“Your church duties are a fantastic, soul-sucking bore of a chore,” you remarked. “And I meant every word of that phrase to an astonishing degree.”

You swore you saw him smirk at that. “Besides,” you added, “that boredom must have been the reason why you were urged to swim this river before us. You were trying to find an outlet of release, are you not?”

“Perhaps,” Kirei curtly responded as he slowly sat down on his haunches but not on the spot to you which you indicated earlier. No matter.

“Then allow me to provide you with that.”

“By cloud-watching…” he dubiously iterated, the dumb mongrel.

Instead of scolding him, you just cocked your head to the side and said, “You’ll be surprised how relaxing it could be.”

He may have more reservations but Kirei finally did sit closer to you and was about to put on his shirt again when you spoke up, “You can’t look at the clouds like that if you’re in such an upright position.”

Kirei sighed and lay back down the grass. He was sulking again.

“You’ve never tried this before, have you?” You asked, taking note of the tension on his shoulders and his hardened facial expression.

“Obviously not.”

“It’s child’s play, really,” you explained. “You simply look at the shapes of the clouds and imagine what they could be. Then you tell the other person so he can see what you’re seeing. Therefore, it’s more or less having a shared perspective.”

 “I know how it goes,” Kirei sounded ridiculously glum. “It’s like you said—even a child could do it.”

“As a child, have you ever tried it?”

“No.”

“No friends to do it with then?”

“The same can be said for you.”

You laughed at that. “Stop pouting, Kirei, and do what your king asks of you.”

The priest paused and you could hear the gears in his head turning as his eyes faced the sky above you both. You were watching him watch for clouds, waiting for his next phrase. When he finally spoke up, he also turned his gaze towards yours, narrowing his eyes as he asked, “What happens next?”

You almost wanted to pinch him. “You pick a cloud and you tell me what you think its shape resembles.”

Without breaking eye contact, he pointed at a random spot in the sky, “That one. It looks like a strawberry.”

You followed the direction of his finger and searched at the cloud in question.

“Never mind,” you heard him speak. “I was making it up. This is pointless, Gilgamesh. We’re not children and I have no use for playful and imaginative games. And neither do you.” A pause. “We should head back.”

Growing a little annoyed but still in the mood to maintain his company, you asked of him, “Then tell me a story.”

Facing him again, you smiled. “Tell me about your wife.”

Kirei’s eyes were darker than you remembered and were still very much lifeless and dull. Upon hearing your query, however, you saw a flicker of emotion across them, but only for a moment. It was enough and it kept you interested in this new line of conversation so you urged him again. “Was she pretty?” 

His lips hardened into a thin line as he met your gaze fiercely.

"Did you get to fuck her at least?” you asked, prodding him with a symbolic stick as you whispered your questions, “Did she think you were a good man like your father did? Did she die still thinking that she loved a good man?”

A pregnant silence followed.

“I will tell you that story…” the priest finally replied, moving closer so your faces are only a yard away, “…if you tell me about your friend Enkidu.”

Naturally, you had two reactions about that.

First was to punch him. In the chest, preferably. And dig out his heart while you’re at it. The second one was to disappear and never talk to him again. But these two reactions have always been instinctive; always the ones you immediately act on when some undeserving maggot would dare speak your beloved’s name or inquire of your history with him.

It took all your strength not to punch or kill Kirei, let alone run away from him like a coward. It took only seconds to control yourself from doing any of these things and that must be some sort of accomplishment because normally you wouldn’t even think about restraint when it came to anyone who would smear your beloved’s memory.

But this was Kirei, and you don’t want to burn bridges with him just yet.

“Do you have a death wish?” you responded instead, making it as ominous as possible.

“If you want to talk about the dead,” the priest answered, perfectly calm, “then it seems hardly fair to only talk about my own, Gilgamesh.”

For a while, you just stared at him defiantly, trying to figure out his angle and feeling suddenly out of your depth and ready to blame him for it. But you were the one who initiated such a delicate topic after all, and you could hardly fault him for trying to hit you back in your sorest place.

“Well,” you began, “first of all, don’t ever believe everything you read in those shitty tablets.”

 

 

 

**++++++**

 

**Another two years later**

 

You uncrossed your arms before you and stared at the glass of scotch in your hand for yet another contemplative moment before taking a long sip. Gilgamesh was beside you and was for the first time not drinking. He was watching Rin Tohsaka instead who was surprisingly so refined and graceful tonight as she danced with her third gentleman. It was her birthday.

You peered at Gilgamesh’s face curiously and suggested, “Why don’t you ask her for a turn? Surely she would not reject you in front of her guests.”

“Why don’t you?” the King of Heroes had a ready grin when he turned his face to you. “And please stop drinking that dreadful stuff.”

“Do you not like scotch?” you gestured at your glass with a nod of the head.

“Not that cheap kind.”

“It’s hardly cheap,” you didn’t care either way though. “Someone from the congregation bought this as a gift. I had to accept.”

“Ever so gracious,” Gilgamesh remarked, rolling his eyes at you.

You took another sip, still staring at the side of Gilgamesh’s face, tracing the fine curve of his pale nose with your gaze as you imagine being captivated by the enigma of his serpentine ruby eyes. How many women throughout the years have you watched succumb to their desires when under his scrutinizing attention? How many times did you catch Gilgamesh in various state of undress and in mid-coital performance across the different rooms of your villa? You couldn’t help but smirk. The headiness of scotch was almost acidic in your throat as you leaned in, your lips hovering close to the god-king’s ear.

You whisper innocently, “You look beautiful tonight, Gilgamesh…”

And he sharply recoiled from you with that statement, blinking rapidly at you as if you were suddenly a different person. His gaze fell on the glass of scotch you have been nursing. And then he looked back at your face.

His smile was taunting, “Getting rusty, eh, priest? Perhaps your drink had been bewitched and you simply overlooked inspection before taking a swig.”

“Perhaps it was bewitched and I simply didn’t care…”

You leaned closer and placed a hand on his shoulder when you felt yourself becoming woozy. Your grip was firm as you sought purchase and recovery from that momentary lapse. You swallowed something hard down your throat.

Gilgamesh was chuckling now, “Honestly, Kirei…” he put a hand on your forearm, helping you to steady yourself, “…you’ve been acting strange even before you started drinking that vile scotch.” With another hand, he took the glass and threw it behind him. The two of you had been on the secluded corner of the veranda, leaning on a ledge. You were sure that the glass would have unfortunately landed on the grass if not on an unsuspecting bystander. You didn’t care to check if there was the sound of shattering beneath. You were far too preoccupied staring at the god-king.

And Gilgamesh was just as transfixed, looking at you in bewilderment and slight discomfort. There were times like this when the two of you couldn’t tear your eyes from one another and the prolonged visual contact was both shockingly mundane and bafflingly intense, depending on the occasion and the reason that inspired it. Right now you were sure that you were pretty much intoxicated, and impulses you have buried in a long time are beginning to reveal themselves.

The King of Heroes—who usually enjoyed listening to the sound of his voice and took sadistic glee in teasing, cajoling, insulting or encouraging you to say or do a number of things just for the sake of gauging a human response from you—was suddenly bereft of speech. He just shared your breathing space and kept holding your stare. You should be flattered. You should take this as an opportunity to perform a little experiment.

“Hey,” you began as you drew closer until your lips were almost touching.

But then Gilgamesh shoved two of his fingers inside your mouth. The abruptness of the action caused you to choke. You immediately jerked away, coughing, and then wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

He was laughing.

“I don’t think you should do that, Kirei…” he wagged one of his fingers (still slick with your saliva from earlier) as he said it, “Once you cross that fatal line, there is no turning back and you will have to be severely punished.”

“What?” you inquired, voice raspy, “What was I trying to cross? What line?”

He sighed as if you were his disappointing child who just couldn’t comprehend what he was teaching you at this moment. Suddenly, he was near you again, grabbing your arm in an iron grip. Gilgamesh leaned towards your left ear and whispered, “If you were sober, I would have been more open to the invitation, Kirei. In spite of other reservations, I have been curious as to what it would be like if we were to engage like that…”

To demonstrate what he meant by that, he cupped your crotch, briefly giving it a squeeze. You almost stopped breathing when he did. You admittedly had to struggle when he continued to speak into your ear as he removed his hand from your crotch now. “But I find that an inebriated partner, who would throw herself at me the previous night, very willing and absolutely wrought for my cock, would at once begin accusing me of taking her by force and without her consent the very next day. Trust me, I have some experience with a few of the women I brought home. And they displeased me so badly with their hypocrisy and threats that I had to teach them manners of, shall we say, the Old Way…”

Gilgamesh pulled away and smiled. “I am confident you wouldn’t even remember having this encounter or this conversation by the time you slumbered and awoke. So,” he placed both hands on your shoulders now, looking slightly apologetic, much to your revulsion. “Do us both a favor and let us not revisit this unfortunate attempt to—as the people say these days—‘hook up’.”

 

 

 

**++++++**

 

 

 

“The gods never favored me, and neither have I ever been fond of them,” you told the priest laying beside you as you still stared at the clouds above. You felt the familiar streak of melancholy as you went on, “My heritage does have divinity for my mother was the blessed goddess Ninsun while my father was a high priest and seer.” You paused to chuckle, “but your history books already know this.”

“Then which ones did the scholars mistranslate or misinterpret about your myth then?” Kirei asked.

You turn to face him, measuring your next words as you spoke, “If I tell you the truths your scholars missed out, then will you answer personal questions I have about you in turn?” You smile. “A fair trade of secrets, wouldn’t you say?”

The priest thought about it for only a short moment before he gave a curt nod.

Satisfied with that confirmation and mutual understanding, you gazed back into the heavens. “Now,” you said, “Where do you want me to start?”

 

 

**++++++**

 

 

 

Gilgamesh is the dark-ocean bottom.

You are the fast-sinking anchor.

And you are ready—

—ready to fall.

 

 

* * *

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kirei encounters Rin and suffers her opinion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here on I will be writing chapters chronologically--at least for the next two, that is. I will still include some pesky flashbacks. Just deal with it, guys--just like Kirei is dealing with his newfound amnesia regarding anything that could be construed as sexual between him and Gil. In his opinion, nothing of the sort is happening. Like, _at all_.

 

 

++++++

 

**A child's truth**

 

++++++

 

 

 

“This isn’t a social visit,” muttered Rin Tohsaka, sole heiress and your default mistress with surprisingly razor-sharp blue eyes which now regarded you again with the unchanging look of suspicion and anxiety. “I have more terribly important things to do than have my precious time wasted by the likes of you.”

“I understand,” and you really do, “so I won’t keep you here any longer.”

“It’s up to me to decide if I was being kept or not, Kirei,” she says your name with an emphasis of disdain. You can’t help but chuckle.

“Then perhaps you should tell me the purpose of this non-social visit,” you run a hand across the face of the bible which you were gripping with the other, “I am rather curious as to why a lady of your importance would visit my church on such an ill-advised hour, especially on a school night.”

Rin started chewing on her lower lip; an unflattering habit that indicates self-doubt, and therefore a characteristic not suited for the head of a prestigious lineage. You almost wanted to scold her just to hear yet another violently verbal reaction, but you are quite frankly exhausted and would rather go back to bed.

Both of you are standing in the middle of the pews, only five yards away from the altar. There were no lights around you except for the illumination of the full moon outside. Rin’s face was bathed in dynamic shadows, making her look less youthful and innocent, and therefore quite beautiful in your eyes.

“It’s about Shinji Matou,” she finally conceded, crossing her arms before her in a haughty air of self-importance which was a contrast to her nervous lip-chewing seconds ago. _Such a fascinatingly contrary young woman_ , you thought.

But then she interrupted that line of thought when she added, rather sternly, “—and that damnable arrogant asshole he has for a servant!”

You fought the strong urge to start smirking. It would be too easy.

“I mean, there are pain-in-the-ass jerks,” Rin put out her hand, gesticulating for effect, “who consider themselves the center of everyone’s attention, and they would purposefully scheme and manipulate for their own entertainment and pleasure just because they can and they must. That’s Shinji.”

Next, she puts out the other hand, almost gesturing towards you, her eyes hardening another inch. “And then there’s Gilgamesh.”

You find yourself merely nodding, repeating, “And then there’s Gilgamesh.”

Rin suddenly shoved you in the chest with the same hand she had put out just seconds ago. The action was abrupt and completely uncalled for. You had no idea why she did it, and where she could be getting her energy from in this ungodly hour. You shook your head in calm dismissal, opening your bible to the previous passage you were reading and falling asleep to just five minutes ago.

“Don’t ignore me, goddammit!” Rin stomped her foot. This time you allowed yourself to glare.

“Please refrain from uttering blasphemous statements inside the house of God.”

“Then _please_ stop being _you_ for just a full minute and listen to what I’m telling you!” She shoved you again. It was less forceful than the first one.

You narrowed your eyes at her. She’s getting too comfortable being physical with you lately. There was a time when she was younger and still grieving her father that she would address you as her superior even if it was begrudgingly. She would not even meet your gaze directly unless she’s arguing with you without actually defying your orders. And she couldn’t stand being near you in any way at all. Not that she has ceased any of that; but right now she acted less of your former ward and more of a woman with her own independent will and spirit.

There should be some parental pride to that. You should feel proud and accomplished because, in your own way, you did raise her.

But, as of this moment, all you could actually feel are exasperation and dim curiosity. Rin blamed you for a lot of things, but she had maintained tolerance of your presence for the entire seven years she lived with you in Italy. She was unable to complete her Catholic orientation, however, which was a shame. You were unable to convince her to stay for another year, but you supposed it wasn’t mostly your fault. Half of that is Gilgamesh’s, of course.

The origin of myth drove her away to Japan.

The relationship between them had soured so poorly that to this day Rin claimed selective amnesia and refused to acknowledge that she ever knew Gilgamesh at all until she encountered him again during the Holy Grail War.

“You make it sound as if I have something do with any of this,” you remarked, closing your bible shut to look at her in the eye.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too quick to absolve you of _anything_ , Kirei.”

“And am I to assume you aren’t just here to vent out your feelings about the matter? That perhaps you want me to…” you trailed off, expecting her to fill in the blanks.

“I want you to talk to him.”

You nodded. “Shinji Matou, you mean.”

“No! Godda— _ugh_!” she wiped a hand on her face and tried again, “I meant Gilgamesh! I can handle Shinji. What I need from you is to tell your boyfriend to back off and stop encouraging that piece of shit Shinji from fully realizing his potential to be an even worse piece of shit!”

“Rin,” you uttered her name with more authority now, taking a step closer. She didn’t visibly flinch but you could read some apprehension in her gaze. “Your unfounded characterization of my relationship with Gilgamesh aside, I would like to iterate that it is not in my power at all to dictate the course which the King of Heroes wants to take. You and I both know he does whatever he pleases—”

“Only because you let him!” she interjected stubbornly.

You were starting to get irritated as you countered her observation. “Gilgamesh is a heroic spirit who had attained a corporeal form, and he had always been very autonomous. Even his own master cannot bend him to his will, and was incredibly careful not to use command seals in fear of upsetting or incurring Gilgamesh’s wrath. Do you understand?”

Rin took a step forward. There was little room that separated the two of you now. She was shorter and had to look up as she spoke to you but this wasn’t a deterrent at all from unleashing her temper.

“You and I both know that even though he does as he pleases, he usually does it because he has an audience,” Rin explained with an edge to her tone you aren’t usually accustomed to. She sounded calm yet seething. It was almost frightful if you didn’t know her better. She went on, “Goldie is self-indulgent, hedonistic and insurmountably narcissistic. Someone with that hefty ego needs little validation except from someone whose opinion and respect he values the most. You are such person. Gratingly enough, you never deny him of anything. Now he is completely unhinged, and all because you encouraged his inflated sense of self.”

You could only blink at her, not finding any reason to argue with her stellar and on-point observations. You didn’t know she was this insightful, and it made you wonder what else she might have figured out…

“I know you’re awfully concerned about his behavior,” you finally answered her. “After all, there was a time in the past when you and he even bonded—”

“What? Shut up, Kirei!” Rin looked shocked that you even brought that up. “It was never like that between—”

“—which was why I think that if there was anyone who could attempt to reason with him—”

“Oh, don’t you even dare—”

“—I think it should be you, my dear.”

Rin’s cheeks flushed. She was positively livid. It was almost adorable.

Gritting her teeth, she punctured each word in response, “I am not talking to that asshole again. I’d rather he meets my servant in the battlefield instead which I would prefer rather than initiate any conversation.”

“I could mediate said conversation,” you offered with a smile. “Would that help?”

“NO!” Rin bellowed. “I don’t understand why I have to be the one to talk to him! You should be the one resolving this, Kirei. Aren’t you in charge? So put some kind of leash on your boyfriend for the sake of the Grail war itself!”

There it was again.

“I think Gilgamesh has the right to face his accuser,” you replied, “After all, you are lodging a formal complaint, are you not? Resolving this issue requires both parties to participate in an exchange of words. And I shall preside over the discussion. It’s the civil and proper way, Rin.”

Both of you stayed silent for a few moments before you spoke up first just to ask, “And why do you keep insinuating the laughable and vile notion that Gilgamesh and I are involved with each other?” You frowned now. “I am a man of cloth, Rin. I have my vows, and I certainly would never take another man as my lover.”

Rin took a few steps back to form a more acceptable distance between the two of you. And then she gave you a rather pointed stare before she smirked and said, “He moved in with you right after the fourth war, didn’t he? So he lived with you for a decade and even came back here to Fuyuki because of you—”

“—because of the fifth war that was about to take place,” you quickly corrected.

She waved a hand at you, “And so,” she went on, “it’s not exactly shocking news if people start forming speculations, Kirei.”

“Neither is it prudent,” you remarked with a frown. “Who else believes this?”

“Fine, you got me.” Rin shrugged her shoulders, uncrossing her arms and glaring at you further. “Maybe it’s just me then. Maybe because I know better since I was under your house for a time. And I’ve seen the way you are together. All those long trips you take. Those lingering looks when you think I wasn’t watching. The rather traumatic event I witnessed during my fifeenth birthday…”

Your mouth fell open. What in the burning pits of inferno is she talking about?

As if reading your mind from the expression of incredulity in your face, Rin explained as her eyebrows knit in contrition. “My fifeenth birthday, Kirei,” she repeated as if that was enough to joggle your memory of something. It didn’t.

She sighed and went on, “God, Kirei! You couldn’t have forgotten that farce! It was you who forced me to hold a party for the sole reason of welcoming in suitors who have the potential, credentials and privilege to become my husband in the future—a rather disgusting arrangement, by the way, and one I only agreed to because Gilgamesh reassured me that it’s not actually something serious but rather just a stupid game I have to play if I wish to appeal to you regarding my inevitable departure from Italy.”

Rin paused, looking horrified, “Why am I talking like this again!? I’ve always hated this manner of speech—ugh, it’s your fault!” Almost dramatically, she pointed an accusatory finger at you. “Talking to you all these years has turned me into an excessively courteous and stiff person like you! But not anymore!”

You said nothing as you try to wrap your head around what she was talking about previously. “And what of the party, Rin?”

She scoffed, crossing her arms in front of her again. “I was caught among dancing with a bunch of morons when I saw you and Gilgamesh standing there in the terrace, possibly gloating.” Rin lowered her gaze until she was glaring at the floor instead. Her cheeks started to color again. “And I swear that I saw you trying to…kiss him. He put his…his _fingers_ in your mouth—”

She visibly shivered. “I can’t believe you’re making me relive that moment again!”

“I don’t remember any of that,” you looked at her sternly. If you could frown even harder, you would have. “You must have been making this up.”

“Oh, fuck—” she was about to scream that phrase aloud but managed to stop herself. She was fuming, hands clenched into fists. “Why would I make up something so repulsive, Kirei? I’d rather be injected with a large parasitic worm right through my urinary tract than make up stories of whatever sex you’re having with Gilgamesh!” She paused, eyes widening. “Oh my god, oh my _fucking_ god, you just made me said ‘you’, ‘sex’ and ‘Gilgamesh’ in one sentence!”

“Rin,” you were beginning to get angry and frustrated especially by her frantic and offensive speech. “There is no need to be vulgar. It’s unbecoming of a proper lady. I should punish you severely for your lack of manners. Is this the price of your self-reliance? You forget how to address your seniors the right way?”

“Oh, screw that, Kirei!” she shouted.

You gripped the bible dangerously tight in your hand as you grabbed her forcibly by the elbow with the other. The sudden and sharp contact surprised her enough to render her speechless for a couple of seconds. You took advantage of her stupor and pulled her close, whispering, “Under the usual circumstances where I’m forced to tolerate your brashness, I would have appreciated your candor, but certainly not on these sensitive matters. You are crossing a line here, Rin. I suggest that you learn to take a step back and don’t proceed walking it.”

Rin looked stupefied for another minute before she recovered and glared daggers at you once more. Almost quietly, she said. “Take your hand off me, priest. You’re the one who forgets his place.”

A pregnant silence followed. Everything else seemed to stop existing altogether and there was just you and her locked in a short battle of wills.

In the end it was a draw. You loosened your hold and then she pulled away her elbow from within your reach. She stepped back again.

“I apologize for touching your inappropriately,” you said.

“And I’m sorry for saying the word ‘fucking’,” A pause. “And for saying it again.”

You smirked now, unable to help your endless fascination for her even though she showed you nothing but contempt and disrespect over the years. Rin Tohsaka was entertaining by herself, more so now that she is an active participant for the Holy Grail War.

“Did you hear what I just told you, Kirei?”

You blinked at her. “Yes?”

“I said,” she crossed her arms again. “I’m willing to meet with Gilgamesh and talk things out so we can come to an understanding. You’re right to say that one should face his accuser. I suppose I can just mentally prepare myself with meeting that jerkwad again.” She scoffed indignantly and then added, “So please arrange it, Kirei. Tomorrow night works just fine.”

She turned away before she could hear your response. You wondered what convinced her to contradict her earlier proclamation. But it’s just one those mysteries about Rin you can’t possibly hope to figure out.

So you simply watched her walk off without another word. As she reached the oak doors and opened them, Rin abruptly turned back and remarked aloud. “And I’m sorry for commenting harshly on your relationship with him.”

Even from this far distance, you could tell she was smirking. “I mean, obviously, it’s none of my business what you guys do under the sheets.”

Once again, she didn’t wait for your response and left.

 

* * *

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gilgamesh advises Rin.

 

++++++

 

**Dim as an Ember**

 

++++++

 

 

 

 

For quite some time since, you acted as if the incident at the whorehouse with Kirei didn’t happen. Sure, you made passing comments to the priest concerning the eager ways he had unwrapped his birthday present when he screwed and skewered that prostitute, but you avoided bringing up what happened the morning after—when you lay together in the bloody mattress, and your precious fool was overcome with his base instincts and grabbed hold of you to unleash them. And you answered his beckoning by a resonant desire of your own.

That event was an exceptional anomaly and is now in the immediate past, much like the other times over the years of your co-existence that you caught yourself pondering what Kirei could offer you if you would allow him to engage in a carnal conversation of bodies. As tempting as it had been once (or twice), you never let it get further than solitary contemplation and daydream.

There were many kinds of women you could feast on, and a few of them have been more than satisfactory to keep such futile curiosities at bay. And so you and Kirei will remain as you are. The co-existence and alliance you have formed together were admittedly far too valuable and useful for you to risk losing over petty, shallow desires of the flesh. You are still, after all is said and done, the origin of myth and the King of Heroes.

Whatever you set your mind to will come to pass, and so whatever you decide should never come to pass, never will.

As annoying as it may be to admit it, there are some routes of pleasure even you will not partake in.

 

 

 

**++++++**

 

 

 

 

**Ten years ago**

 

They found Tokiomi Tohsaka’s corpse just a few days after the Great Fire of Fuyuki struck. You were still having quite a bit of fun exploring Prague with the priest and making enough astute observations about his person because you knew that Kirei would stay by your side as long as you pay attention to him, and offer insights about him that he was still trying to figure out. As soon as news of Tohsaka’s death reached him, Kirei made arrangements to fly back to Japan as soon as he was able, bringing him along with you. At first you put up some resistance, seeing it a farce for Kirei to even pretend that his late mentor’s death was such a deep concern to him, especially since it was him who drove that dagger behind said mentor’s back in the first place.

The only thing that convinced you to ‘pay respects’ to your former Master and that boring mage of a man was when you learned he had an heir—a daughter—who was just about to inherit her family’s magical crest, and that Kirei was the one who has to implant them on her. Upon arriving to Japan and before the proper burial, Kirei met Rin Tohsaka in the family mansion so he can supervise the first stage of crest implantation. You would have kept your distance because Kirei insisted that it wouldn’t be wise to reveal yourself to her, but no one commands the King to do anything, as the damn priest should have known by now, so Kirei was forced to introduce Rin to you instead.

She was surly—which was understandable given the circumstances, but there was also a forceful streak to her that you readily recognized. This is a child who always wants to get things done her way. When she was introduced to you that day, she was naturally taken aback by your presence but it only took her a few seconds to adjust and in no time she was glaring at you while offering rather sarcastic quips at both you and Kirei every time you treat her as the child that she was. Her sense of entitlement to a treatment that is required of her station was truly pleasing; for she knew she is the progeny of an accomplished and wealthy mage from a proper family and therefore must be addressed and served as such. You approved of her demonstration of power at an early age.

Kirei, on the other hand, just acted nonchalantly around the Tohsaka girl, as he tends to do with most things, and it occurred to you (based on the interactions you witnessed between them) that he already has an odd relationship with the girl which was filled with unspoken tension. This was made all the more obvious with the way the girl kept making sly comments about Kirei’s personality (or lack thereof) even though he was, at this point, her legal guardian.

One time, they were caught in a particularly intense argument about whether or not Rin should study abroad. The girl was incorrigible, insisting that she belonged here in their mansion with her handicapped mother she has to take care of. Kirei made the argument that Aoi Tohsaka will be provided for by a top-notch group of medical professionals, and that Rin should focus more on herself at this point. He also added that she deserved to receive a proper Catholic education from one of the most prestigious schools in Italy, and that he can’t actually function as her guardian if they were countries apart. You listened to Kirei calmly explain his pragmatic reasons and Rin vehemently counter with her own set of arguments for at least ten minutes before you decided that you should speed up this process to your favor.

After all, Kirei promised to take you around the Vatican to go sight-seeing, but it mattered so little to you whether or not the Tohsaka brat will come. However, you could see that even though he concealed it well, Kirei was determined to keep Rin close to him. You’re interested to know why he does and how he would go about it, so you decided to interject with your own opinion on the matter while the two were still caught in a verbal battle

“It is clear to me that she can’t stand to be around you, Kirei,” you raised your voice so you can be heard over all their petty squabbling.  

Both heads turned towards your direction. Kirei looked puzzled as Rin crossed her arms in a stubborn stance, but waited for you to keep talking.

“I suppose it makes sense,” you stretched your legs across the sofa and regarded Rin with a smile, “It’s normal for girls her age to feel torn about their object of interest, no? Some would actually enjoy being in the presence of the men they fancy, but others—like Rin—would rather stay away because she’s far too embarrassed to admit to her feelings for you, Kirei. To her mind, she believes that if she’s far away from you, her beloved, then she could shield herself away from whatever imagined anguish and possibility of rejection that she might experience. Such is the fickleness of young love…”

A silence that seemed to go on forever happened. And then…

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!” Rin was looking more flustered than ever. Her cheeks were a bright shade of red, dotting her skin like angry ant-bites. “You’re not actually saying that I— _like_ Kirei, are you?! BECAUSE I DON’T!” She stomped her foot for emphasis. “And how dare you, Goldie! How dare you call Kirei my…” she choked back the next word by whispering, “… _beloved_ ,” as if saying it would cast a dark spell.

You ignored her enthusiastic protests and sneaked a glance at Kirei’s reaction. The priest’s eyebrows have knitted together. Instead of addressing you, he turned his attention back at Rin. In a voice that would be mistaken by everyone else except you as kind and patient, he asked the girl, “Is this true, Rin? Are you uncomfortable coming to Italy because you are infatuated with me?” For added effect, he bent down to meet her height, palms resting on his knees, and looked directly into her eyes as he asked again in a softer voice, “And this infatuation of yours has made it hard for you to see me and talk to me on a daily basis?”

You were clutching at your stomach at this point, laughing as noiselessly as you could manage as you watched Rin’s face crumble into such an exquisite mess of confusion, disgust and shame. She looked like she was ready to either cry inconsolably or kick Kirei on the shin. Or both.

She surprised you when she merely swallowed visibly and then composed herself once more. As calmly as she could, Rin answered Kirei, “Give me some time to think about this invitation of yours to study abroad. I have to speak to my mother first…” she looked across you, waiting for any snide comment about how pointless it was to have a discussion with a woman who is a mere shell of her former self now. But you gave her none. Sighing, Rin added, “If you would excuse me, I’d like to retire to my room and get some rest. The crest implantation yesterday still has me…feeling woozy.”

That could have been a blatant lie. She was so animated and spirited while arguing with the priest moments ago. Kirei seemed convinced, though.

“Understood,” he responded as he pulled himself back to his full height. Rin was just staring petulantly at her feet when Kirei swept a hand over her head in a consoling pat. She instantly jerked up to meet his gaze evenly. She looked peeved and rubbed her own hand on the spot Kirei touched as if she was hoping she could scrub off the contact if she tried hard enough. You watched all of this without saying a word, but a grin was also plastered to your face the entire time.

Rin does not like Kirei. She was obviously suspicious about him, and that is why she can’t stand being around him, let alone be subjected to his commands and accept his decisions as her guardian. It amused you to no end that she doesn’t know how exactly right she is to be mistrustful of Kirei in the first place.

One day she would figure it out, and you can only hope that you could witness for yourself as the painful epiphany of what Kirei had done to her father would slowly dawn to her—if not destroy her altogether.

And she was such a proud girl to begin with.

But the prouder you are, the deeper and darker your despair could become.

 

 

**++++++**

 

 

Three days later, Rin came home from attending her father’s burial all puffy red eyes and pale countenance. To think that she just left an hour ago very composed and almost detached from it all. You can’t help but wonder what happened to her that has inspired such immense expression of grief.

Rin ran up the stairs and towards her room as soon as she burst through the front door. Quickly enough, you caught her by the arm and turned her to face you. She twisted herself in your grasp so she can meet your prying eyes. She looked absolutely shaken to her core.

_Why do you mourn?_

You could hear _his_ voice again. It was carried by the wind of nostalgia, and it weakened your hold on the girl before you.

Before you could stop yourself, you began speaking to her in a hushed tone, “It is the natural state of things in the world to die and decay. Why concern yourself with mourning what has been lost and can never be gained?”

She blinked at you, tears falling carelessly, soft and translucent on her cheeks.

After a while, she looked down at the floor and responded, “I told myself I wasn’t going to cry. But then he gave me this…”

Rin lifted the dagger she had been clutching in her other hand all along.

“It belonged to my father,” she explained, still unable to look at you. “Kirei said my father wanted me to have it.”

Releasing her, you gestured a hand to take the dagger from her and she voluntarily disposed it on your palm. Both of you just stared at it for a few seconds before you hear her ask, “Have you…ever lost someone, Gilgamesh?”

You could only stare at her face, wondering if she even knew about your myth, dreading that she truly wanted to learn the answer from a seemingly innocuous question. Letting out a sigh, you knelt before her and placed the dagger back in her hand. She clutched her fingers around it without saying another word. When you encircled your own hand on hers, you were struck of how cold her skin was.

“Everyone has lost someone,” you replied, “Loss is the oldest story in the world.”

Rin narrowed her gaze, “Isn’t your epic considered the oldest story in the world?”

You suddenly have nothing to offer in response to that. You don't think Rin was being philosophical and had instead pointed out an obvious observation. Her young mind couldn't have possibly made such a sublime connection. So you chuckled instead.

“That is indeed the case,” you pulled yourself upright and looked down at her with growing affection, “I suppose that could also only mean that I was the first in the world to have ever lost someone.”

And you laughed aloud now. She didn’t.

All she said was, “It hurts.”

Rin stared back at you with meek, teary eyes. “It has to hurt, right?”

You could see her tightening her hold on the dagger. You just smiled. She could have stabbed you right there with her weapon and twist the blade in your chest and you still would have felt nothing.

“I haven't felt pain in four millenniums, my dear,” you told her.

And you vowed that you never will again.

“Will you tell me?” she asked, biting her lower lip. “Will you tell me how you did it? Tell me what I should do so I will never hurt again like this…”

“It’s simple really,” you bent down to reach her height, resting your hands on your knees as you smirked. “All you have to do…”

You reached out to wipe a stray tear close to her chin.

“…is to never love again,” you explained. “Instead, you should love yourself enough that you don’t need to love anything or anyone else.”

“But,” Rin asked, “Wouldn’t it be a lonely existence if I don’t love anyone?”

“Oh, not at all,” you stood upright again.

To your surprise, Rin wrapped her shaky arms around your waist and buried her face on your abdomen.

Your hand found itself on top of her head in a gesture that could either keep her in the position, or push her away once you start feeling like doing so. Whispering listlessly to yourself now, you repeated the phrase under your breath.

“...not at all.”

 

 

* * *

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kirei proposes a bet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suggest listening to Nine Inch Nails' "CLOSER" to get into the mood of this chapter.

++++++

 

**Entrapment**

 

++++++

 

 

 

Everywhere Gilgamesh goes, fortune follows and blesses him with anything that he wants, even through the tiniest moments you have dismissed at first as purely coincidental. There was the flight attendant who gave up her cell phone and her virtue for him; the family who agreed to ‘rent’ their house which he destroyed brick by brick over the course of a week while you two squatted in it; and the astounding amount of converted sums earned through the objects from his treasury he casually asked you to sell.

Fortune has to favor him indeed because it would also explain how he happened to easily stumble upon an abandoned luxurious cabin in the woods during your spontaneous hunting trip, and have his favored whorehouse agree to give him a prostitute who also readily sold herself to be abused and killed by you because Gilgamesh has made it contract-binding.

There was also that small matter of him convincing Rin to move to Italy with the both of you using nothing but his silver tongue to goad her into it, as well as driving her away from your care when she decided to live in Japan for good.

You reflected on all of this as you sat by your office, waiting for yet another one of Gilgamesh’s nocturnal visits. After he bequeathed your memorable birthday present two weeks ago, he’s been appearing in the Church more frequently now. He used to be too preoccupied with obsessing over Saber to engage in a conversation with you much like back in the earlier years; or too busy critically observing Shinji Matou’s amateur attempts to entertain him by making the King of Heroes bear witness to his victims’ suffering as Shinji raped them. You only became privy to the latter part (much to your shock but amusement) because Gilgamesh himself complained to you about it in detail the other night.

“The only thing that his humdrum and barbaric display of sexual masculinity achieved is solidify my viewpoint that he is not a mongrel but in fact a maggot,” Gilgamesh announced aloud in the silence of the office as he poured wine into the World’s Best Dad orange mug he stole years ago and insisted for you to keep. You only kept it because you like how the orange complements the redness of wine when inside it.

As for the World’s Best Dad…

Well, technically, you are a father.

You had a biological daughter you gave away.

You became Rin’s guardian.

And you are a church-ordained man of God.

When you shared this casual insight to Gilgamesh on that same night, he chuckled and remarked. “An  _unholy_ trinity, one might say.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from smirking in agreement.

Gilgamesh should grace you with his presence tonight around ten o’clock to midnight. It’s currently ten-thirty. While waiting, you put your papers in order and picked up a book from the shelves. It was a classic entitled _A Confederacy of Dunces_. You were already midway through the novel, and it was probably the funniest thing you have ever read. It’s a story about Ignatius J. Reilly: a lazy and eccentric obese man who is so pompous and absurd that it often eclipses his otherwise impressive intellect. His observations about the world are odd and disturbing as well as narrow-minded and conceited at best. You would have detested such a character if he wasn’t so endlessly entertaining.

The way he relates to the people around him is fascinating because he considers himself to be someone of the highest authority and therefore should be respected when, in reality, he is nothing more than a failure and a fool in his late thirties who still lives with his mother and has a bloated perception of his talents and accomplishments. What you enjoyed the most about Ignatius is how exaggerated and comical he perceives his daily sufferings to be next to those who have to tolerate and put up with him, like his mother. You can’t stop smiling every time he walks into a scene and proceeds to verbally abuse people without him being aware of the impact of his words and actions towards unsuspecting victims. It also amuses you that the author John Kennedy Toole had committed suicide eleven years prior to the publication of his only novel.

You were in the middle of reading another ridiculous scene where Ignatius tries to reason his way out of yet another absurd misunderstanding when Gilgamesh finally arrived. He burst through the door without so much as a preamble and immediately sat directly on top of your desk to face you, one leg bumping against your arm as he leaned close and said, “Put that book down and hear me, Kotomine. Tonight’s earlier activities have been unexpectedly invigorating!”

Hearing his formal address of your name again, you sighed out and frowned. You waited for him to say something more, but he just smiled and looked as if he wanted you to ask him first before he proceeded with his story.

But you didn’t want to hear about it just yet so instead you said. “Rin came to me last night. She has some concerns she wanted to talk to you about.”

But Gilgamesh waved a dismissive hand and continued talking, “Shinji was actually commendable tonight. He brought me to this underground club that I had no idea he even had an access to, though I suppose that he does have connections due to his—”

“Listen,” you interrupted him as you pushed yourself off the chair, meeting his gaze evenly. “Rin has taken a stance against your proclivities with the Matou boy. She filed a formal complaint to me last night, citing that your sideline hobbies might be disrupting the Holy Grail War itself. As overseer—”

“I had no idea where he found this BDSM club but it offered more than just your superfluous sex play of pleasurable pain—”

“—it is my duty to evaluate whether or not Rin’s concerns are valid. This means that you have to face her in an open discussion—”

“I daresay you’d like it there, Kotomine. Have you ever tried bondage?”

You placed your hands behind your back and gave him a glare. “Gilgamesh—”

“Or I could just kill that faker she calls Archer and you can lock her in here for her own safety,” Gilgamesh snapped, eyes narrowing in contempt. “Honestly, Kirei, you should have told that spoiled bitch that if she wishes to continue her avid participation in the war then she must accept the uncontested reality that I will do what I want when and where I want it, and however I want it. Rest assured that none of my so-called proclivities with Shinji will derail the flow of the war.”

“And what if it already had?”

“What did that little bitch tell you exactly?”

You blinked at his animosity and couldn’t help but comment on it. “I knew you and Rin had an abrupt falling-out back in Italy, but this is the first time I have ever heard you talk about her with such obvious vehemence.”

“And of course you want to know the story,” Gilgamesh crossed his legs and stared into your eyes as he added, “but I don’t want to rehash something so stupid and forgettable. All you need to know is that Tokiomi may have been boring but at least he wasn’t a bothersome eyesore like your piss-poor excuse of a surrogate daughter.”

“That’s funny,” you replied, fully smirking now, “I thought _you_ wanted her to be _your_ daughter. You certainly acted like you were the guardian and not I.”

“A mistake in behavior I completely rue to this day.” 

You took a pause before you asked him in a soft voice, “How did you convince her to leave my care and move back to Japan?”

Gilgamesh glared at you in a way that you were familiar enough to know that you are currently crossing a line. You remained unfazed and started speculating aloud, “Or perhaps you didn’t do anything at all. Perhaps you never wanted her to leave. And yet she did because of something you have done.”

The King of Heroes stayed absolutely still as your smile widened.

“Am I getting close, Gilgamesh?”

He snorted. “You forget your place, priest.”

You showed your palms in a mock display of surrender, as if to say he was the one who offered you no choice but to talk about this. “It would be so much easier if you just tell me the truth. Or are you too scared to tell me?”

“Who are you calling a coward, mongrel?”

You cocked your head to the side. “I don’t think I used that word. Perhaps it’s your insecurity talking.”

The King of Heroes didn’t look pleased by your answer but he said nothing. He merely snorted again and uncrossed his legs. He extracted himself from the desk by tugging hard and tight on your crucifix. He almost ripped it out of your neck when he did. You kept your hands behind your back and just watched him. The King of Heroes traced the crucifix with one hand while the other grabbed you forcibly by the nape so he can drag you down to meet his height.

Your foreheads bumped against each other before you found yourself resisting the proximity out of self-preservation. Gilgamesh was smiling this time as he allowed you for some wiggle room. His fingers are now splayed on your nape, testing the pressure of his next grip which turned out to be more commanding.

“I ought to punish you…” he whispered.

“Then,” you offered simply, “punish me.”

Against your better judgment, your hands unclasped from behind you and ended up encircling around Gilgamesh’s hips as you contemplated of the many ways you’ve always wanted to break him and his smug face. For a few seconds the two of you just stared at one another in defiance, neither of you uttering a single word. Finally, you gripped him more forcefully by the hips and dragged him close until all that was left for the King of Heroes to do was to entangle the length of the necklace of your crucifix around his fingers in an attempt to choke you. You titled your chin away to dissuade his efforts, but Gilgamesh had his other hand clamped around your neck as well.

This should have been an unprecedented nuisance, but it was a tad nostalgic too that you couldn’t stop yourself from deriving an inkling of joy from the King of Heroes’ maltreatment. Gilgamesh must have thought the same because he was grinning back at you, twisting the necklace tighter until you started to feel the heat and discomfort rise in your throat. In response, you slammed him against the sharp corner of the desk where you know would bruise. To your glee, Gilgamesh did wince at the impact. He sneered now as he retaliated by letting go of your necklace only so he can grip your collar by both hands and tear it open.

He didn’t stop until he had torn open the rest of your robes, pushing aside your long coat so he can keep ripping through the rest of your black garment underneath. You could hear the buttons pop as the cloth seemed to scream with Gilgamesh’s violent coaxing. You should do something to discourage this, but this was getting far too interesting to put a stop to.

You didn’t realize that your breathing has gotten rapid and irregular until Gilgamesh pulled you by clutching at your neck as if you were an animal, and then he ran the tip of his tongue on your unresponsive lips. The wet ligament made languid strokes for a few more seconds before Gilgamesh pulled away and proceeded to probe your mouth with his fingers instead. The sudden assault of his digits was so rough and uncomfortable but it was exactly what your body craved. To be defiled so brutally like this was everything you would expect Gilgamesh would inflict. You bit down as hard as you could until you drew blood from the intrusion. The immediate taste of copper filled your mouth as you began to suck on his fingers. Your eyelids fluttered shut and all you could perceive was the King of Heroes chuckling as he yanked you closer by pulling at your hair.

He withdrew his fingers and before you protest, his teeth were upon your mouth, nipping at your lower lip until blood burst through. The pain was intense, throbbing in that specific small area alone, but it was exhilarating nonetheless. You raised your arms and raked your fingers through the gold-spun hair, and it was as frustratingly soft as you fantasized it to be. You pressed your fingertips onto the curve of his skull as if you wanted to imprint permanent indentions on the surface, imagining it crack wide open so that everything would spill all bright and sticky and beautiful onto your palms. And Gilgamesh was laughing, raspy and broken, as you lowered your arms again so you could push him up to the desk by cupping him around his inner thighs.

"That's not much of a punishment, is it?" you remarked, "Are you going soft on me, mighty king of Uruk?"

You watched as his expression turned dangerously sour.

Perhaps Rin was right. The girl has always been more perceptive than people give her credit for. Perhaps the last decade has only served to delay what was always going to come to pass, and you shouldn’t resist any longer, or deny what you so obviously yearned for. He had peeled you back until you’re merely all raw insides and scarred tissues. He unveiled the corruption rotting your very core, and taught you to fall into its inescapable reach. Why should this be any different? Why do you fight something that you so desperately want to lose to?

He created you in your perfectly twisted image, and now it’s time you destroy him by making him see that he should covet no one else but you. No damnable Saber. No dead friend from millenniums ago. Just you and only you.

“Do you think you could do better, mongrel?” Gilgamesh challenged.

“I just wasn’t expecting such a half-hearted attempt to dominate from someone of your divine and wrathful ilk.”

“Watch your tongue, priest. I would hate to cut it off you, seeing as it may yet prove to be serviceable later.”

You ignored him and was about to pull at his jacket when his hands tightened around your wrists to stop you. “Vile, dirty whore of a holy man…” he was whispering into your ear this time, licking the shell, “you may continue your pitiful attempts to violate me but don’t you dare spoil my favorite jacket.”

“Then would you kindly please take it off,” you muttered through gritted teeth, growing impatient that even common courtesy was becoming too hard to maintain at this point. Gilgamesh pulled back to examine your face.

“Do you have any idea…” he murmured with another bold smile, “…what we are doing here, Kotomine?”

“Why,” you shredded through his white shirt now, your fingers pulling deliberately and without pause as you phrased your question, “do you,” _rip_ “insist on,” _rip_ “calling me,” _rip_ “that?” _riiiiip_

Gilgamesh was giggling uncontrollably now. You only glared.

“Kirei,” he said, “Is that how you want me to keep calling you for the rest of the night, hmmm? With your name that denotes purity and beauty? Kirei _?_ _Ki…rei…_ ”

You gave him a blank stare. “It is my God-given name, Gilgamesh.”

He grinned wider and leaned close to lick your lips again. You remained absolutely still until he was finished. Before he could pull back, you grabbed him by the throat and breathed against his parted lips as you told him: “And I would have you scream it instead."

“Oh?” Gilgamesh murmured back, his hot breath shaky upon your welcoming mouth, “But not until you scream mine first.”

“Really?” you ran your other hand through his hair again as roughly as you could. “Want to make a bet on that?”

“That depends,” he ensnared you this time by wrapping both arms around your shoulders, “on how much the loser suffers for his insolence.”

“How about…” you trailed off as you lowered your hand from his throat and traced his exposed chest with light touches until you reached to your desired destination and began unzipping his pants.

“Yes?” Gilgamesh’s ruby eyes glistened in anticipation.

“The loser gets to do whatever the winner wants regardless of the time, place…” you looped your fingers around the waistband of his pants, getting ready to pull them down as you added, “…and the publicity of the act.”

“Publicity of the act?” Gilgamesh chuckled low, “do you mean to say that the loser wouldn’t mind indecent exposure in spite of being a respectable figure?”

“He is compelled to do it since he lost the bet after all.”

“Brilliant,” Gilgamesh was now working his way through your zipper. “And by loser, you do realize that it’s going to be you and not me, so you essentially just condemned yourself to that punishment of your choice, Kirei.”

“I won’t be so sure,” you smirked. “You may think you’re the master in this relationship but you of all people should know how I often surpass my teachers.”

“Idle threats from a clearly inexperienced man,” Gilgamesh cupped your slowly hardening cock, and you couldn’t help the way your breath hitched at that. He then pressed his lips against yours in a semblance of a kiss, but you didn’t care to respond to make it clear that it was.

“Well then, fool,” he murmured as serpentine eyes settled heavily on yours, “Gladly do your worst and hope for your sake it would be enough to bring this king to his knees.”

Your grin turns wide and foreboding.

Gilgamesh will soon regret that invitation.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kirei and Gilgamesh are happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is all about love.

* * *

 

 

++++++

 

**Crown of ivy**

 

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What do you offer someone who has experienced everything?

What else do you share? What could he possibly seek from you that he hasn’t had a countless times before, and from more superior sources of only the keenest quality?

Come now. Is it really such a perplexing question?

It’s rather simple: What do you give to someone who claims to own everything?

 

 

 

**++++++**

 

 

 

 

**Five years ago**

 

“The gods never favored me, and neither have I ever been fond of them.”

Gilgamesh’s usually intense eyes are calm as he surveyed the clouds. He is now seized by a mood of quiet contemplation you were only able to get very scarce glimpses of over the years you shared a living space. In your presence, he always seems to put on a spectacle either to provoke you or to catch your undivided attention so you only see and notice him (often it’s effortless). He had succeeded tremendously almost all the time, much to your chagrin. He isn’t doing that right now though, and you can’t decide just yet if this is a good thing for you or not.

The King of Heroes is not only proud and vain—he is divine incarnate, ego personified, and the most ancient legend of the world ever told in a story, if scholars were to believe. On the surface, he seems easy enough to generalize—just a privileged and haughty man of excess born from a brutal time when gods revealed themselves too often to mortals in order to strike fear and awe in their hearts; and he is this half-god royalty who hoards and demands only the finest of things, including people themselves.

“My heritage does have divinity for my mother was the blessed goddess Ninsun whereas my father was a high priest and seer,” he pauses so he can look across you from where you lay beside him on the grass. There is a smile playing on his lips as he says, “but your history books already know this.”

To Gilgamesh, everything is simplified and always on extremes, and he chose you to gladly play his fool. You wonder, often in the back of your mind, if your simple purpose of entertainment is the only reason he spared your life. He could have easily selected someone else; you have no delusions of your expendability. But there are moments in between, days like this, when Gilgamesh would look at you like you are a person he can have conversations with but not just to gauge your secret shames, faded regrets and worn-out dogmas. He tends to converse with people to instigate or extract certain knowledge about them he can toy and manipulate to his personal satisfaction, and you have not been safe from this either. You would never expect it to change any time soon. And yet…

And yet you can’t help but goad him into performing the same familiar trick much like you are doing now by asking him pointedly, “Then which ones did the scholars mistranslate or misinterpret about your myth then?”

“If I tell you the truths your scholars missed out,” Gilgamesh leans close, but only to a certain extent. He is the kind to limit physical distance between himself and another person as if to establish territorial lines; to still impose it on someone he had already claimed a long time ago, or at least that’s what you have led him to believe. You belong neither to him nor even to yourself, and this uncontested truth is just one of the many reasons you are void.

“If I tell you,” he repeats, measuring each next word as if he is tasting it in his tongue, “will you answer personal questions I have about you in turn?”

But of course. Even the King of Heroes can be predictable at times.

“A fair trade of secrets, wouldn’t you say?” His gaze so heavy with intent locks upon yours. There is no enthusiasm from your end. Nevertheless, you pretend to second-guess for a few seconds before you nod in solemn agreement.

“Where do you want to start?”

You slowly sit up from your previously passive position. Gilgamesh just watches you, waiting for your inquiry.

“When masters and servants form a contract,” you decide to begin by establishing context first, “the master sometimes shares a consciousness with his servant, and is visited by images that reflect the servant’s past life, or at least a version of his known myth,” you pause so you can see if Gilgamesh has anything to say to that which he doesn’t, so you press on, “On the first few months, right after the Holy Grail war was concluded…I dreamt of your life in Uruk. I saw events through your perspective. It was…” you trail off, unable to find the phrase to describe the experience fully so you didn’t bother.

“Why then did it take you so long to tell me about this?” Gilgamesh doesn’t sound offended or even angry. He only sounds remotely curious.

“I don’t know,” you answer, “It wasn’t frequent enough to warrant any special notice. I wasn’t really bothered by it.”

“You saw events through my perspective, you say…” Gilgamesh smirks and drags himself from the grass, sitting up as he shoots you a lazy gaze.

You nod curtly as your eyes lower and focus on his hands flexing almost rhythmically above his lap.

“And what of these events? Come now, don’t keep me in suspense.”

You hesitate. He sounds far too cheery for someone who should consider this revelation an invasion of privacy. After all, Gilgamesh detests anyone who would crowd his space without his permission and he gets so merciless about the smallest offense that a person could ever commit that you somewhat expect at this point that he would find your unintentional snooping to be a severe crime.

As if he is reading your line of thought, he comments, “It’s not something you could control, is it? I could hardly blame you for that then. I’m not entirely unreasonable,” he chuckles and stretches his arms behind him so he can lean his weight on his palms. His pale fingers raked through the blades of grass, and the gesture looked more as if he is merely brushing past them than getting ready to uproot them. You have no idea why the latter even occurred to you. Maybe it’s because you have seen Gilgamesh commit violence upon several unsuspecting people who incurred his wrath over the years, but then again, there is also something tender about the way he handles most objects he gets his hands on. It was as if he was more inclined to pay reverence to a sharp weapon from his arsenal than appraise the sanctity of a creature’s life.

“There isn’t much difference to your activities then to your activities now,” is all you could say.

“So what you really mean to say is that all I have done back in my time and here in yours is just drink, feast, kill and fuck my way through the world?”

“Essentially,” you admit and he laughs heartily.

“However,” you interject and he glances at you.

“Yes?” he cocks his head dramatically over his shoulder.

Letting out a soft sigh, you finish, “you haven’t always done so alone.”

“Ah,” he grins now, “there we go. That is what you really want to ask me and nothing else, isn’t it?”

“You aren’t surprised, and you shouldn’t be. After all,” you put up a hand before you and stare at the lines in your palm, “you did just bring up my late wife in the brash manner you think would anger me. Of all people, Gilgamesh, you should have known that I’m mostly unfamiliar with intense emotions such as that. I can comprehend them to a certain extent; sometimes even mimic them whenever it was for my best interest.”

You glance across him, weighing his gaze upon yours, “it is how I deceived my way through my vocations. Neither my father nor my mentor ever caught on. And the only moments I didn’t have to fake it was…back in Fuyuki during the Great Fire that desecrated the city. It was the closest thing to a real emotion that I had in a lifetime. And it was probably a genuine one too…” you chuckle grimly.

“Therefore,” you continue, “it shouldn’t also surprise you that I want to talk about your dear, precious friend. Talking about Claudia—” you pause, not meaning to let her name slip so easily, “is a sore topic for me, I must admit. And I believe the same applies to your late friend. It has been said that your epic tale of adventure and quest for immortality was not just simply that. According to several textual analyses, it’s also about your journey towards humility and self-awareness, all because the gods created and granted you your equal; a companion whose friendship has…”

You stop yourself, realizing you are giving too much away. Gilgamesh’s eyes have narrowed considerably since you started that running commentary. He was less cheery this time, straightening his back so he could sit with a more dignified stance. He doesn’t speak for a while until he asks, “I applaud you for your apparently rich knowledge regarding my so-called epic. Tell me, is that brilliant literary psychoanalysis something you’ve learned from your university?”

“As a matter a fact, it was,” you look away from him so you can reach out for your shirt. The warmth from the sun has dried the rest of your body minutes ago, and you feel the need to clothe yourself out of propriety. As soon as you put it on, you add, “Your epic is such an obscure work and hasn’t had the same kind of, shall we say, marketable appeal as other ancient texts like the Greek gods of Olympus, but I’ve always found it…most mysterious.”

“Oh?” Gilgamesh smirks again, “Do tell.”

You shrug your shoulders at him. “I supposed you could say that on a subconscious level which I only realized until I met the actual god-king from the myth…” you nod at him, “I had understood the struggle you faced. I… _related_ to it, if that even makes any sense.”

“The struggle?”

“Your pursuit for something…definitive.”

“Ah,” Gilgamesh smiles wider now and reaches out a hand to flick two of his fingers under your chin, “And this was back at a time when you were lost, correct?”

“I suppose,” you merely answer, lowering your gaze to the ground. You take a few more moments to compose your thoughts until you continue: “You were half-divine and a king. You had riches. You had many wives. You ruled a glorious city with loyal subjects who feared and worshipped you. And you had your friend, one you treasured and ultimately lost. You sought immortality upon his death. It then was taken from you. And then your epic just ended on an ambiguous note. Some say you simply contended yourself with what you already have and became a better king. That’s the unanimous interpretation.”

Gilgamesh hums in response before he remarks, “but you didn’t believe it at all, did you?”

“I didn’t give it much thought until several years later after…Claudia died.”

“How so?”

You narrow your gaze as you counter with another response, “I want to make one thing clear: if I divulge this with you, I expect you to do the same about your beloved Enkidu. Is that permissible, King of Heroes?”

And Gilgamesh scowls openly. You feared for a moment he would produce the Gate of Babylon behind him and snatch his weapon of choice to strike you down with. You also noticed how much he hates to hear you speak Enkidu’s name.

“You are not fit to give me commands like that, you arrogant mongrel!”

“I just want the guarantee that this goes two-way.”

“I have already spoken of that before this discussion has begun. Do you not pay attention, imbecile?”

“You have to understand,” you explain calmly, “you are putting me in a vulnerable position. I expect that you return the same courtesy and allow yourself the same exposure.”

“Dumb, conceited priest,” he mutters but it lacks the usual vigor of his insults. He sighs and adds, “You have this king’s word, Kirei. Now enough delaying tactics and illuminate me with your realizations about your dead wife.”

“Very well,” you say. To appease him somewhat, you folded your hands together in a look of utter submission and apology. You didn’t look him in the eye as you go on, “I married Claudia because I was desperate. I wanted to know if I will ever be truly capable of loving someone. She was a sickly woman to begin with, and so our marriage had been mostly about me attending to her needs. Her health is already deteriorating long before I met her. Perhaps that is why I chose to marry her…in case my experiment fails. She will inevitably die anyway.”

“Tragic,” Gilgamesh replies in a flat tone.

You just nod. “And I couldn’t love her at all. So I was going to give up on living altogether. I was going to kill myself as soon as she dies. It was the only answer.”

Gilgamesh is completely silent now. Even his breathing is faint.

“She knows of my affliction because I have told her about it. I see now that it was a mistake because she took things in her own hands and killed herself for me. She wanted me to realize that I was in love with her. She thought I truly was because I started crying as she died before me. She thought it was due to grief. She thought she had given me the answer—that I wasn’t dead inside after all.”

You chuckle. A smile spread across your lips. “Obviously, she thought wrong.”

“How pointlessly cruel of her then,” Gilgamesh remarks and slides closer to you. You had no choice but to look at him again. His smile is soft but still layered with another meaning. “Let me guess,” he whispers as he leans on your shoulder, “you only cried because you wished you were the one who killed her, didn’t you?”

He breathes into your ear some more as he says, “Just like with your father, and as you clearly demonstrated when you finally disposed of Tokiomi yourself.”

“You know me so well, my king.”

He hums, sounding pleased, as he begins to nuzzle your shoulder in a gesture that reminded you vaguley of a cat. It unnerved you but you stayed still.

“And how did this make you realize that my epic has ended differently from whatever saccharine nonsense your scholars settled with?”

“Because,” you say, meeting his gaze once more. The sight of those wine-dark eyes steals the next words from your mouth. They have always been so hypotonic especially in this angle. The sun makes his golden hair sparkle sharply now as if the luminance itself could cut you. And those eyes are impossibly hard to look away from. “Because,” you repeat, “even when I didn’t love her, losing Claudia has _dismantled_ me. The next years after her death were spent trying to tuck away the rising darkness in me. And so, I thought…”

You only notice you are leaning closer when you notice Gilgamesh lowering his gaze to watch the next words escape from your lips, “…what more for the mighty god-king of legend who has lost the one person he had ever given a damn about and loved more than himself?”

You could feel Gilgamesh’s breath hitch upon your lips.

“I thought, well, he couldn’t possibly have moved on just like that, could he? He grieved for seven days and seven nights and tried to make himself undying. And when he failed, it must have only made him realize that there will always be a hole that only his friend could fill. There will never be another ever again.”

Gilgamesh is smiling but there is no warmth or joy in it.

“And after Tokiomi summoned you and you stood there in your golden armor and fixed, commanding stare…so many questions about you were already in my head before I could even comprehend them.”

He chuckles low as his eyes flutter close. You could count every eyelash as you go on, “And then you engaged me in talks of pleasure and sin, and pulled down every wall I caged myself in…” you lick your lips now because your throat feels rough and dry but you keep your eyes open nonetheless.

“I have killed so many but only Tokiomi Tohsaka’s death by my hand granted me the feeling of being alive for the first time, and you were there to witness this…”

“Kirei…”

His utterance of your name sounds like a sweet prayer to your ears. You couldn’t help the way your smile widens into a twisted sneer.

“And the dagger I stabbed him with—I offered it to his daughter and watched her tears soak it while she broke apart before my very eyes. Her youth tainted; her grief meaningful and complete. It was incomparably the most beautiful thing I have ever seen…” your voice trembles as laughter threatens to burst through.

Gilgamesh lets out a pleased grumble at the back of his throat as his eyes open again. You meet his hooded gaze boldly as you reach out for his face with both hands. You enclose it loosely within your shaky fingers as if you’re afraid that clutching him too tightly would make him dematerialize. And the god-king just stares and reflects your smile back at you tenfold.

“You should have been there,” you whisper as your hot breath caressed his lips. “I would have enjoyed it more if I shared that moment with you…”

It wasn’t an empty sentiment. You really meant it. When Fuyuki burned—and everything was swallowed by the fire—Gilgamesh never left your side as you explored the ruins together. You briefly thought back then as you do now that there is nobody else you would have next to you when the world ends once more.

“Shhh,” Gilgamesh murmurs as he reaches out to pry your hands off him so he could go back to nuzzling your shoulder again instead. “I’ll take your word for it. The truth is Rin came running to me after that, clutching the dagger. And then she wrapped me in an embrace. Oh, she was lovely in her sorrow, was she not?”

“O-Oh?” you start giggling uncontrollably now, “h-how-w—per-perf-fect…!”

Gilgamesh’s shoulders are shaking now too as he shares your mirth. Both of you could have been crying as well. Such is the overpowering, singular moment of emotion—alive and vibrating—between the two of you.

It is only after a whole minute of holding one another through the torrents of malicious joy that you became aware of Gilgamesh’s nakedness, of the fresh scent of his skin against yours, and the small, languid motions of the golden strands of his hair as the soft wind blows through them, touching your cheek and chin. You waited for a second or two before you pull away.

He did the same yet he held your gaze even after you separated.

Before any kind of awkward silence occurs, you speak up so you can ask, “Was I right to assume these things? I do hope I didn’t offend you for being so presumptuous.”

“Offend?” And Gilgamesh laughs. “If you have offended me, rest assured that I would have struck you down already! You have done no such thing, though.”

You nod. “Then I was right?”

He sinks back to the grass as he replies, “I would admit that your insights were not far-off.” He pauses to sigh through parted lips before he closes his eyes again. “Yet there are small things I do wish to clarify, however.”

“Which were?”

“Though I didn’t get to live forever, I did live for another three centuries,” Gilgamesh explains, staring up the sky. “I was half-divine. Now I don’t know what you meant by saying I became a ‘better’ king. I was a king no matter what. I still am. However I wish to rule my kingdom is not something your lowly kind could define or impose values and structure on. Lastly—” he rolls to his side and rests his head on his palm, burrowing his elbow on the grass as he did.

“I didn’t outright reject Ishtar’s proposal for marriage,” he says, “I even considered it in great length, but only if she agreed to one condition: she must move to Uruk in my palace and share communal rooms with my other wives. She terribly opposed this which I knew she would because…well, your scholars were right to assess that I did actually despise her. But who says I can’t marry and fuck her while still hating her at the same time?”

He chuckles as he grins openly, baring his pearly teeth. “I believe that’s what your contemporaries would call ‘multi-tasking’, yes?”

You crossed your arms. “Then it was only when she didn’t agree to your condition that you turned her down?”

“No,” Gilgamesh starts playing with a few strands of his hair, “I turned her down because Enkidu doesn’t like her either.”

You didn’t hide your surprise when he finally speaks his late friend’s name freely around you. You then meet his sharp gaze which seems to dare you to comment on this, and you knew better than not to do it.

There is one question that you’ve always wanted to ask him regarding the exact nature of his relationship with Enkidu, but you don’t want to risk putting the King of Heroes in a bad mood. You knew that if you haven’t offended him yet, then you’re certain you will do just that once you inquired him about that one thing which scholars themselves have debated for years.

Gilgamesh stares at you again, waiting for you to say something else.

You bite your tongue. The curiosity is strong but you have to be stronger than said urge. Instead, you merely responded by saying, “I think we should get going. I have a mass to hold in ten minutes, and not enough time to prepare.”

“Might as well,” the god-king replies as he picks himself up from the grass and sorts through his clothing, taking his time putting them back on.

“I shall take my leave then.”

“Yes, go.” He waves a hand to dismiss you as he gets ready to pull on the shirt on top of his head. You just nod and begin to walk away.

There is an uphill curve that you had to climb up from the riverbank and yet your steps feel lighter than usual. Your shoulders are slack and the rest of your limbs are loose. A satisfied grin has remained true on your mouth that your gums start feeling numb from being exposed too long.  

It was wonderful.

 

 

 

**++++++**

 

 

 

_‘Creeping ivy clings to wood or stone,_

_And hides the ruin that it feeds upon’_

~William Cowper

 

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And by "love", I obviously meant 'as defined in terms of KotoGil's dysfunction'. This chapter included allusions from the original work _The Epic of Gilgamesh_ which y'all should get as an audio book because listening to the tale is significantly more enjoyable! I hope you guys have still stuck around since the beginning, and haven't gotten tired of all the flashbacks and the unresolved tension. Trust me, there is some serious 'resolving' of said tension for the next chapter. You're all just going to have to take my word for it and stay patient :) If you have any issue to voice out, please feel free to comment below! :3


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kirei wants things and Gilgamesh listens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **THIS CHAPTER IS RATED F FOR FUCKED-UP**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Seriously, the tension is resolved. And it ain't going to be pretty. But hey, it's KotoGil.

 

 

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**Blood and the Moon**

 

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For someone who claimed so boastfully that he wanted you to scream out his name, Kirei Kotomine has, once again, surprised you with the methods he employed to accomplish his goal.

“When I asked you earlier if you liked bondage,” you remarked, trying to hold in an amused laughter from spilling out, “this isn’t really what I had in mind.”

Kirei merely smirked as he tightened the yarn strings, binding them securely around your wrists. He was awfully quiet, taking all his time winding and winding and winding the strings until his motions have quickened, making the strings overlap each other in a pink haze. You had to say something just to diffuse the oddness of the situation. Still, you are feeling generous and patient enough to indulge whatever fantasy Kirei seemed to have prepared.

“Since when you do have yarn anyway? Taking up crochet as a new hobby? Knitting Rin an ugly sweater for her upcoming birthday? I know you like to torture the poor girl by gifting her hideous clothes but surely this is far too much effort just for a juvenile sadistic prank…”

“You talk too much,” Kirei answered, barely looking at you.

“I’m not the one who performs sermons every day for churchgoers.”

“The two are incomparable things, Gilgamesh,” the insufferable priest finally leaned in and you tilted your chin up by instinct, expecting your mouths to bruise one another, but Kirei must have sensed your eagerness and paused, only to nip at your ear instead. His teeth barely made an impression on your skin. You were tempted to groan in frustration but you wouldn’t let your temper flare.

Kirei went down to his knees now to gaze more openly at you, citing, “My sermons do considerable kindness to the flock I tend to. I water their soil and make it fertile again. Your speeches, on the other hand, are self-indulgent and self-serving. You simply enjoy hearing the sound of your voice and watching the reactions of the people who are unfortunate enough to listen to your bullshit.”

You allowed a mocking pout to cross your features and then goaded him to keep talking by saying, “You and I both know you can cut deeper than that.”

“Yes,” Kirei took both your bound wrists and closed his hands around yours as he kneeled before you. Even from this angle—with you sitting on the couch, hunched over, thighs slightly apart—the priest looked more in control even in genuflection. He clasped your hands tighter as he added, “I could cut you deep, Gilgamesh, maybe even physically. I could plunge my black keys into your pretty face, but violence has become a far too familiar route for you and I, hasn’t it?”

“But clearly it’s your favorite. And this is the first time you called me ‘pretty’.” You made a grating _awwww_ noise that even you hate whenever someone else does it, but the tiny flinch Kirei did in response to that was _so_ worth it.

Ever since this little performance of Kirei began, you yourself didn’t move an inch, more than fine playing the part of a subdued victim. It wasn’t that difficult, really. Your legend says you were a fighter with unmatched skills, and that seemed to have created inaccurate images of you where you were depicted as a bearded, well-muscled brute who could wield both axe and sword, and able to decimate cities just by punching through construction. It was a rather flattering though unimaginative portrait of ancient masculinity that this so-called modern society had square-pegged you in. But you’ve always been more of serpentine in your attacks. When stalking prey, you could stay shrouded as you slither your way into people’s homes, and no one will ever see it coming until the second you strike. By then your venom would have already corrupted their bodies and souls.

So you sat there before your precious fool in absolute stillness that could have been easily mistaken for lethargy, more than content to mislead the dance as long as you could before you find the opportune moment to claim your prize.

“It is my favorite route, but I want to try something different this time.”

“Oh, do show me,” you raised an eyebrow and very slowly grinded closer, spreading your thighs just an inch. To his credit, Kirei ignored that distraction.

“I think now is a time for tenderness instead,” the priest almost whispered.

You didn’t have to ask him to expound. The bafflement in your expression should have sufficed. In response, Kirei smirked even deeper as he lifted your bound wrists so he can slip inside them. With your tied wrists behind his neck while he was still maintaining his kneeling position, his face made contact with your chest. Some of the shredded pieces of your previously pristine white shirt were hanging on the sides, and Kirei now buried his face into your exposed flesh and started to kiss a trail leading to your abdomen. He did so in an agonizingly leisurely way, barely putting any pressure as his lips explored. His breath was steady as his kisses made their way back to your chest, making you rather ticklish. You only smiled as you watched him labor with these scraps of affection.

Admittedly, you guessed that his sudden style of gentleness is deliberate; probably to irritate you and make you lose your patience. But you have experienced all types of womanly arts both old and modern by this time, so you were disappointingly unfazed by his first effort of seduction. Still, Kirei has always been a promising student. He will learn in time, and you will teach him all the fundamentals and the decadent variations of lovemaking and fucking. For now, you will grant him permission to use your body as a canvass for exploitation. If anyone could rise up to the challenge, it’s Kirei Kotomine.

Kirei was now preoccupied tracing his tongue around your nipples, alternating between licking and sucking, all the while still doing so in insufferable and unhurried tenderness. Still, you say nothing.

Finally, Kirei cupped your hips to pull you closer and you sink a little further from the couch until he was nipping at your throat and jaw. His teeth barely made any scratch as he continued handling you with gentle care.

Kirei nuzzled your shoulder and traced the shell of your ear with his tongue in slow strokes that once again are making you ticklish. You are slowly growing mildly annoyed but you said nothing.

He pulled back and stared into your eyes for a few passing seconds before he got close enough to press his lips upon yours—except he didn't. Instead, he pecked both your cheeks and nipped on your chin with the same slow pace and soft pressure. Still, you gritted your teeth together and said nothing.

Kirei nuzzled your _other_ shoulder this time. He started kissing your collarbones, licking through the clavicle with the same measured strokes. You clenched your fists together and was tempted to rip the yarn strings off your wrists. Still, you stayed absolutely still, almost like an angry statue, and said nothing.

He was now whispering into your ear, asking, “Is this perfectly serviceable to you, my king?”

As calmly as you could muster, “If I was your cub and you are a lioness giving me a bath, then yes, it’s all perfectly serviceable.”

Kirei just hummed and nuzzled at your shoulder again. His hair made your chin itchy. You narrowed your eyes, breathed in, held it for a couple of seconds and then tore away the flimsy bindings in your wrists as soon as you exhaled.

And Kirei was laughing. He cupped your cheeks tightly and said, “What’s the matter, King of Heroes? Can’t handle my kind of foreplay?”

You glared sharply at him, your fingernails digging into his elbows. “You are a killer. A monster with an artificial heart. You are no tender lover and I certainly would never put you in such an abysmal role.”

Kirei’s smile only widened at your obvious distress. You are going to punch him any moment now. But first, you are going to give him a scolding.

“I have given you access to my entire body, Kirei, and you insult my generous offering by squandering it fruitlessly on—”

And Kirei crushed your mouths together just like that. He sucked on your lower lip and used his teeth the entire time as his tongue coaxed yours to meet his in a violent yet calculated dance. He changed angles every few seconds to probe your mouth deeper, to sink his teeth on your upper lip as deep as he could so he could draw blood and taste it. He stood up now, bending you backward until you were arched in an almost painful way. Your hands pitifully clutched around his wrists, burrowing deeper, wanting to scrape his veins with your nails.

He raked his fingers through your hair and dived in some more in a messy tangle of tongues and clashing of teeth. You bit him back just as hard, and licked off some of the blood and saliva dripping from the corners of his mouth. Kirei pressed you down the couch with his entire weight, pushing a knee between your thighs until you opened for him, and wrapped your own legs around his until you found the best spot to rub your hardness against. Kirei met you in equal vigor with each of your upward thrusts. He pulled back as a string of blood and spit kept your mouths connected. Kirei now watched your face closely as he pounded down on you repeatedly until both your leg muscles were straining in agony and for sweet release. Blindly, he shoved his hands down and almost ripped your pants and undergarments with a sheer force, tossing them aside.

You reached in and tore through the rest of his priestly robes until your fist finally found its way to his cock. He let out a soft moan and then gave you the most arrogant smirk you have ever seen before he plunged not two but three fingers _inside_ you. You almost bit down your tongue in shock, exhilaration and anger. You were going to say something but the words would not form in your bruised and bloodied mouth. Kirei pushed and pushed and pushed his invasion until you could feel the tissue give in and rupture with his indelicate probing. This fresh, throbbing pain has taken you aback, but only for a minute before you were grinding back against it, seeking its ache as you laughed brokenly.

You had taken men to your beds and claimed them like women long ago. This has to be the first time you would allow another man—a lowly mongrel mortal at that, but one who fascinates you endlessly—to take you as his own. It was just so deliciously ironic and cruel. You should have known this was the only way you and the vile priest are going to fuck. There was never going to be any other way.

Your muscles relax, even though the hurtful ebbing downward hasn’t faded away just yet. You now put your arms behind your head and hooked your legs on Kirei’s shoulders. You giggled for a short time as Kirei aligned his cock inside your violated entrance, and before he could plunge in, you asked him, “So whatever happened to that time of tenderness you speak of?”

Instead of responding to that, Kirei merely said. “Please feel free to scream as you take me to you, Gilgamesh. Preferably doing so by using my name."

"In case you weren’t paying attention—!” you gasped once Kirei fully sheathed himself inside you, not bothering to give you time to adjust to his length before he started with his brutal onslaught. You bit down your tongue and tried not to laugh anymore as you struggled to keep your voice even when you explained, “As you—can—see! I would—simply not! Scream out your—! Name just because—just because—you are… _nnngh! Nnggh! Ohhhh!_ ”

A cacophony of groans and wordless gasps followed for the next several minutes. Five more minutes passed before Kirei eventually slowed down his pace to stare into your eyes. He hovered above you, overshadowing the light from the ceiling, and it has made him look even more sinister in this angle as you gazed up.

“Gilgamesh,” he said.

“What was that? I can’t hear you...” You chuckled, “how about you scream it?”

Kirei let out an amused sigh and pushed back deeper and harder. It made you screw your eyes shut because you definitely felt that electric delicious heat right down to your toes. Maybe it was even enough to make you shout his name. You didn’t, though. Instead, you asked him: “What do you want, Kirei?"

Kirei looked puzzled all of a sudden. It was such a loaded question, and clearly not the best time for its definitive answer. He just stared blankly before he slowed down his pace again, gripping your hips this time as he changed the position so he could flip you to your stomach instead. You allowed it.

“You know,” he whispered into your ear as he smoothly glides back his cock into your entrance, “you are truly the only person who has ever asked me that question…and who actually cared about the answer.”

“So you owe me as much then to explain yourself.”

“There is no definitive one, I’m afraid.”

“Try anyway. Paint me pictures. I know you’re simply dying to.”

Kirei pulled back and pushed in again. “I want…”

He burrowed his hands on the couch’s armrest close to your head and kept his thrusts steady as he ranted on.

“I want the future. I want to hold it at the palm of my hand and _crush_ it. I want… _Shirou Emiya_. I want him to see what Kiritsugu never did, and I want him whole enough first before I start breaking him apart. I want Rin to watch as I take yet another man that she loves. I’d dream sometimes that she had murdered me; that she plunged the same dagger on my chest and I’d just smile and tell her she did a fine job and has surpassed all my expectations. And as soon as she pulled out the blade, only this black mass of ooze came out from me and she would drown on it with no one to save her.”

You hummed in approval, lifting your hips to meet his continued thrusts as he spoke again. “And I want to bring Angra Mainyu to life most of all and watch it take its first breath as everything decays around it. And I want to watch it purge and destroy; to behold the beautiful ugliness it will leave in its wake.”

Kirei grabbed you on the shoulder so he could turn you to face him. As you lay on your back again, you readily encircled your arms around him and waited for him to push inside you once more so your mind and body could just explode. But he didn’t. He just stared down at you with an exquisitely expressive look in his eyes—a burning passion so intense that it made you forget yourself as well as where you are and what you are doing with him.

“And maybe then—” he muttered, “—and only then will I finally understand. What I am. Why I am the way I am. And I’ll finally be _happy_ and more human than any of these pretenders with their frothy sentimentalities and short-lived ties and relationships. I can fully exist as a shadow existence of both man and monster.”

His eyes finally focused on you as if he was just seeing you for the first time.

Very quietly, as if it was a secret, he uttered: “And you—by my side.”

You blinked the sweat and tears away as you boldly looked through the black holes of his eyes. And then you grinned.

“Beautiful,” you told him as one hand reached up to caress his cheek. “Your parents have named you ‘beautiful’.”

Kirei said nothing. His breathing was slow and faint that you almost thought his artificial heart had finally quit right there and then.

Your chest was curiously full, however, and its weight was not entirely unwelcome at all.

“And oh,” you added as you pulled him down so your mouths could meet, pronouncing the words right on his lips, “…aren’t you just?”

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 _In mockery I have set_  
_A powerful emblem up,_  
_And sing it rhyme upon rhyme_  
_In mockery of a time_  
_Half dead at the top._

 _Upon the dusty, glittering windows cling,_  
_And seem to cling upon the moonlit skies,_  
_Tortoiseshell butterflies, peacock butterflies,_  
_A couple of night-moths are on the wing._  
_Is every modern nation like the tower,_  
_Half dead at the top?_

 

 

~ W.B Yeats

 

 

 

* * *

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rin gets caught up in a web but refuses to remain prey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNING:** Some dub-con stuff D:

 

 

 

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**Recoil**

 

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He always runs a hand from the top of your head down to your ear in an aggravating display of counterfeit affection every time the implantation was a success. There are only a few sessions left, he says, and then proceeds to make remarks about your patience and strength; how they are the true characteristics of a Tohsaka. Today he wraps a burgundy coat around your shoulders right after the session was over, and you recognize that it belonged to your late father. You tighten it around your body which is still weak from the magical process it had just endured. Your left arm throbs so badly as if the skin is torn and all the nerve endings are exposed. You know the pain will reside after a few more minutes so you try to distract yourself in the meantime. You shift your focus on the priest, your father’s apprentice, and the man who is now your guardian.

You hate him. It is an inexplicable feeling you don’t want to fully understand. All that matters is that you could never trust him. You just won’t. Kirei Kotomine is not what he seems to be, you just know it. You don’t need any other proof except for that unpleasant feeling in your gut every time you see him.

Kirei meets your gaze after he is made aware that you’ve been constantly staring at him since the session ended. Softly—or rather, using that monotonous tone people would mistake as soft and calm—he asks if you need him to alleviate some of the pain. “There is a healing incantation that I can apply which will not disrupt the result of the implantation itself,” he suggests.

“How about you just give me a damn pill?” you shot back at him, gritting your teeth. Kirei’s expression didn’t change even as he smiles a little at you.

“A pharmaceutical medicine will not work at all, Rin.”

“Then leave me alone. I can manage my own pain,” you reply, kicking your legs in front of you for momentum so you can jump off the steel compartment which Kirei insisted to use as he performs that implantations. You put on the coat more properly, sliding your arms carefully into the slots of the sleeves, taking extra caution with your left since it is still sore. You try not to wince, knowing Kirei is watching. You will not let him see you visibly suffer.

“Your mother is waiting for you in the dining room,” he says as soon as you head to the door. “Gilgamesh is with her.”

When you heard him mentioning your mother, you feel the grip of sorrow instantly which then abruptly changed to anxiety and annoyance upon hearing that Goldie—the former heroic spirit and current freeloader Kirei has taken a liking to—was in the same room with her. Quickly, you rushed out of the room and down the staircase, fearing for the worst.

The scene before you was even worse than expected. Goldie was standing next to your mother. He was leaning on the right armrest of her wheelchair, holding a spoonful of rice which he just fed successfully to your mother. He was cooing at her, calling her something along the lines of, “that’s a good Aoi, such a good girl…” and then patting her on the head. Horrifyingly enough, your mother cheerily offered him a smile as she chewed on the food he supplied her.

“Where are the nurses?” you put both hands on your hips, ignoring how your left arm still ached in some places, as you addressed Goldie. “Did you send them away? Taking care of mother is their responsibility, you know! Do you fancy yourself as a medical caretaker now, you big flirt?!”

And Goldie laughed in that overly confident way he does as if nothing could ever faze him. He puts down the spoon on the plate and glides toward you. His eyes are disgustingly red. The only time you’ve seen red eyes was on a rabbit. But Goldie’s pair is so much more upsetting to stare into, and there are thin, vertical slits in his pupils, making those eyes more snake-like. You hate looking into his eyes but you bravely held his stare anyway, refusing to show weakness.

It was no mystery why he and Kirei got along so well. They’re both inconsiderate jerks. You can’t believe you just agreed to live with them in Europe! But it’s not like there were other options left though. Realistically, your mother is not mentally fit to raise you anymore. You have no other immediate family, and the burden of your entire lineage rests solely on you. To honor your father’s death, you owe it to him and to yourself to become an accomplished magus. That could only happen if you study under Kirei who, despite of his irritating flaws and bland personality, was your father’s highly commendable pupil. But he’s also still a priest and bound by his duties to his Church which was why he can’t stay in Japan. As your guardian, he had every right to take you with him anywhere.

It doesn’t mean you have to make it easy on them, however.

“Honestly, don’t you have some seedy bars you can go to and loose women to pick up and abuse?” you glared hard at him, tilting your chin up and never breaking eye contact once as you raise your voice, “Leave my mother alone, Goldie! She’s a sickly widow who needs all the rest she could get—”

Suddenly, Goldie was picking you up by the waist as if you were some infant. You were rendered immediately speechless. He only lets you go as soon as he reached the staircase where he unceremoniously propped you in one of the higher steps. Before you could lash out, he placed his hands on either side of your lap and narrowed his eyes, his expression almost like a glare but there was a touch of amusement in his eyes which swiftly contradicted that.

“Listen, you unfortunate spawn,” he said, “I don’t mind your lack of manners and grace because proper ladies are such a bore to begin with, so I will not scold you simply for expressing an opinion, disrespectful as it was.”

You scowled at him and curled your hands into fists but were only able to clench one. The feeling in your left arm was beginning to go numb which was the next stage of the implantation, which meant you just lost the use of that arm temporarily. You gave no indication about it as you listened begrudgingly.

“That being said,” Goldie continued as he pulled your pigtails. It wasn’t hurtful but it was embarrassing. “You need to be reminded every now and then who is your superior. If not, then you will be punished for your insubordination.”

Even though you feel the fear rising in your chest, you are still angry at him so you asked him as defiantly as you could, “What are you going to do, you jerk? Beat me until I apologize and promise not to disrespect you again?”

“Oh, you want me to raise a hand to you?” Goldie’s smile widened. “Tell me, you spoiled _fatherless_ princess, have you ever been physically reprimanded by your betters? Did Tokiomi Tohsaka ever put you in your place by doing that?”

“He had no need to do it!” you could feel your eyes burn but you fought the tears and focused on your rage, “And even if he could, he still wouldn’t have done it. My father loves me… _loved_ me!”

For a split second, Goldie looked hesitant and his grip on your hair loosened.

“And you won’t hurt me either,” you spat out. There is steely determination in his your voice that even you couldn’t believe is coming from you. The words you started muttering felt strange but they rolled off your tongue just the same. “Because a king can be merciful. A king feels things more explicitly than normal people, and therefore understands that he should only inflict suffering to those who most deserved it. He forgives readily as much as he could easily punish.”

You can’t deny that you somewhat enjoy the bafflement and surprise that suddenly crossed in Goldie’s face. You have never seen his handsome features look doubtful before, and it is an image you believed you will remember and cherish forever. Up-close and in this moment, you realized that Gilgamesh, who is called the first hero of humanity, whose myth became the prototype of all stories, could be swayed by a common emotion like any other human.

This knowledge delights you. You wonder how you could use it next time.

But right now, you were still livid. The tears did fall no matter how hard you tried to stop them. You screwed your eyes shut and wept as quietly as you could manage. Maybe this is for the best. Let him see you weak and cowering first so he won’t see your next blow coming.

“Fine,” he answered as he pulled away, letting your hair go. “You are forgiven. But I expect you guard your tongue more wisely. It is expected of you as heir magus. Now dry your tears and join me and your mother for dinner.”

When you opened your eyes, you noticed that he has pulled himself to his full height, towering above you as you stayed stuck there on the steps. He looked like he was glowing even though there were only artificial lights that occupied the hallway. You’ve been made aware that he is no longer ethereal but corporeal and yet he still looked like he belonged in another time, in another world, even in modernized clothes. He reached a hand toward you, and you took it without saying another word. You flashbacked to that small moment you shared with him when he comforted you during your grief, and so you suddenly felt a little guilty for antagonizing him moments ago.

It was after your father’s funeral when Kirei explained some of the more understandable concepts concerning the Holy Grail War which your father participated in, and how it cost him his life. One of them was that Gilgamesh was a ‘heroic spirit’ who was a servant to one of the magi who also fought in the War. Kirei explained that this magus was an amateur who, after a series of well-placed traps, managed to catch your father by surprise and murder him. According to Kirei’s story, he got there too late and had no choice but to slay the magus on behalf of your father. Gilgamesh was released from the contract with his now dead Master, but instead of returning to the Grail, he was granted true incarnation. This is something even Kirei couldn’t explain, he said. In the meantime, he and Goldie struck a truce between them because Goldie knew no one outside the Grail participants, and he and Kirei seemed to have developed a weird sort of kinship with each other.

“You look ridiculous in that coat,” Goldie interrupted your line of thought.

Quietly, you answered, “It was my father’s…” 

To his credit, Goldie just nodded as if to accept that it was explanation enough. And maybe it was. You gazed down at your hands which remained hidden inside the coat’s sleeves. Without thinking much about it, you used them to wipe your tears away and then looked back at Goldie who was just watching you, his expression gratingly serene. While he watched, you sighed and stepped down the stairs as you removed the coat, carefully folding it before placing it on top of one of the small tables in the hallway. You plan to retrieve it later after dinner. 

“Perhaps you can wear it again when you grow up,” he remarked as he started walking back to the dining room, “And surely by then you would have filled up your father’s coat more snugly as if it was really meant to be yours.”

Young as you are and still naïve of the ways of men like Gilgamesh, you still caught the implied meaning of his last statement. It made you curl your hands into fists out of instinct. In doing so, you found that your left arm was working again, and this pleased you. The crest—imbued in your father’s magic and other Tohsaka magi before him—has a weight to it that is becoming more familiar to you by now. Its power is growing immense, but you are no longer afraid.

 

 

 

 

 

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**Seven years later**

 

You are turning fifteen in a week, and you rallied against Kirei when he told you that he was going to throw you a party whose main purpose is to introduce you to viable suitors, and where one or two of them could be a potential husband. You were so damn distraught and angry that he would force you to participate in something so misguided, misogynistic and repugnant that you threatened to pack your bags right there and then and leave. He was unfazed by that, knowing that you were still a minor and under his care so you won’t be able to leave the country without his permission. “Not legally anyway,” you shot back, “and you honestly think I wouldn’t find a way to get around it?”

The argument went nowhere especially since Kirei was immovable and adamant in his decision, wearing that damnable smirk for the rest of the heated discussion, that you became so consumed by hatred that you lost your cool and hurled a vase, a chair and then a magical attack in his direction, all of which he was able to deflect without breaking a sweat. The last one, admittedly, was a shameful demonstration of your lack of control with magic, so you couldn’t possibly remain standing there and holding your ground after proving to Kirei that you were still in many ways immature. How could you ever fight for your autonomy now if you get so easily provoked into using magic so carelessly like that? But only Kirei could bring out the worst in you. It’s all his fault!

A week later you found yourself entertaining a host of suitors, dancing and pretending to give a crap about their superfluous stories. All of these so-called respectable men from well-to-do families are either painfully boring, self-absorbed weaklings, or chauvinistic pigs who are not at all subtle as they keep undressing you with their gaze. You would shoot a glare at Kirei’s direction every now and then, and he would return it with that same bemused smirk before he would lift a hand in a gesture that seemed as if he was trying to appease you but it only served to further make you scornful.

But the worst part of the evening came when you spotted Kirei and Goldie standing in the shadows, conversing to themselves as if your parade of humiliation had gotten so boring they were no longer paying attention to it. You were about to march to their direction and have an exchange of words when you were shocked into staying in your spot as soon as you saw Kirei lean in and very obviously and blatantly _try to kiss_ the other man! The entire thing went too fast that you were almost ready to dismiss it as your mind playing tricks on you, but then Goldie was shoving _his fingers into Kirei’s mouth_ and the next thing you know you were running to the opposite direction, feeling sick to your stomach.

Days later, the affair was still grossly fresh in your mind that you avoided every chance to join them for lunch or dinner. You ensured that your schedule at school is extended by volunteering in other activities so by the time you come home, it would be during the most convenient times when you know Kirei would either be at the Church, or Goldie would be busy with yet another female paramour which meant he’d be staying at her place for a few hours.

But then something weird started happening to you.

You would lie awake during odd hours of the night, both mind and body restless. For the first two nights, you simply found this to be an occurrence that can be dismissed but when it continued happening well into a fifth night, you started to get upset. You tried reading books and listening to music. You tried to fill these aggravating hours by honing your magecraft. But no matter how many times you would utilize these odd intervals in time to accomplish something productive, your mind would still find a way to wander to that horrifying incident during your birthday. There was no doubt in your mind by now that the two men you’ve been forced to live with since you were eight were committing an affront together, especially Kirei because he is supposed to be a Catholic priest, dammit!

You force yourself to accept that it shouldn’t be a big deal. Goldie has always been a _slut_. He would sleep with anyone, and though you’ve only seen him with women exclusively, you wouldn’t put it past him if he also dabbled with males. Kirei, on the other hand, has always been more than what he seems. It wouldn’t be unheard of for a Catholic priest to be a closeted homosexual either. So it really shouldn’t be of any concern to you. It’s yet another bizarre and irritating addition to the many reasons you despise your guardian and his “companion”.

Except you’re fifteen and studying in all-girls’ school where most of your classmates keep talking about boys and sex during breaks, in secluded corners of the school where they think no one can listen in when they have these conversations. But you have. In fact, you couldn’t stop yourself from listening in. It had become a bad habit and the crowning apex of which was when you decided to try your hand in pleasuring yourself one night. You were naturally curious and it’s your body so you can do whatever the hell you want with it.

It was awkward at first because you have no idea what to fantasize. You heard one of the girls say that you should think about a boy and things you want him to do to you, but you can’t think of anything.

Until you thought of those jerks.

You tried to stop yourself, but then you started pondering on Goldie—Gilgamesh’s beauty. He is beautiful and seductive. His skin is smooth and pale and his golden hair looks soft to touch—

—no, this isn’t working. You never found Goldie attractive in spite of being the prettiest thing you have ever seen; more so than most girls you know.

And then you thought of Kirei.

You hate him so much for always making decisions on your behalf when he should have known by now that he’s only making you miserable. That stupid, conceited priest who acts so self-righteous and parental towards you when you and he both knew that you will never, ever listen to his lectures or suggestions to improve on your ‘courtesies as a young lady from a respectable line of magi’ as he would never get tired of saying just to get a rise from you. Kirei also always comments with a sardonic joke on every wrong thing you would commit whether during your lessons with him, or your behavior in public. He always buys you dresses during holidays which you will never wear, and always eats his disgusting spicy food right in front of you during the rare occasions the three of you would dine as a twisted illusion of a happy family.

Fuck. That. Priest.

You only noticed that it’s working when you can hardly breathe; wheezing and tossing and turning in your bed as you added more pressure on that delicious, sensitive spot that seemed to be both a separate part of your body, and _the only_ part of your body that matters. It felt like you couldn’t get enough but you were also getting tired from the constant probing, yet you can’t seem to stop. You don’t want to stop. This is all Kirei Kotomine’s fault! He is the bane of your existence and you wish he was here right now so you could punch that smirk off his face! You wish he could see you now just so you can shut him up with his demands of propriety. Stupid, ignorant priest! _Look at me, Kirei! See how I debase myself! I can do whatever I want! You can’t stop me!_

“Damn you…” you muttered under your breath, teeth clenching as your thighs close together with your hand still buried between your center.

You were so close…so close…so good and so close—

“Well, well,” you hear someone say from the corner of the room. Your fingers froze. You open your mouth into a silent scream as you glance up and see Goldie standing there, leaning against the doorway with his arm as he gazed at you in the same sharp and knowing way he has done for years.

His smile was unmistakably present and accusatory. “What do we have here?”

“I didn’t hear you come in,” was your dumb opening as you immediately removed your hand from the shameful spot you were just caressing. You struggled to scoot to the very edge of your bed and away from him.

Goldie merely scoffed in amusement as he walked closer and leaned to touch you by the ankle. You couldn’t help the whimper his touch produced, but you recovered fast enough to give him a kick. He only clutched your ankle down. You didn’t know he was this strong! And then he used his other hand to—

“NO!” you shouted and tried to squirm free but his expert fingers started to move in a way that was unbelievably _just right_. You screwed your eyes shut and hit your head on the bed’s board behind you, but even the momentary shock of pain that collision produced was not enough to seize you back into awareness because Goldie was playing your body like an instrument. It rendered you completely out of sorts. You forgot who you are, where you are and what was happening. All you could focus on was how perfect his fingers fit inside you, and how mind-numbingly good it felt when he stroked you with that kind of pace.

A whole minute must have passed, but eventually you did regain your senses back. You kicked him again and again, not caring where the blows landed as long as they would deter him from touching you.

“Stop that!” you demanded as you used both hands now to shove him by the shoulders. “Get away from me, you pervert!”

Goldie just laughed and replied, “But you were _so_ close…”

“SHUT UP AND GET YOUR HAND OFF ME!”

“If you keep screaming like that, Kirei will hear and come to your rescue,” he almost whispered. “Unless that is what you want after all? You want the holy man, your guardian angel, to save you from the predator, yes?”

You twisted in his grasp and added more power in your next kick. It landed on his chest. The shock of the contact made him release you, and you scooted back away but fell on the floor instead. You hurriedly tried standing up, bumping your arms and knees on the closest objects in immediate reach which you used to raise yourself up. You kept your eyes on Goldie the entire time. Surprisingly enough, he stayed splayed on the bed and just watched you, chuckling to himself. He didn’t bother reaching out to touch you again. This should be a relief but then he was still _talking_ , doing more damage with his words than actions.

“Am I correct to presume that you have been thinking of Kirei?” he looked so smug and pleased. You were going to protest but then he added, “I’ve always known you fancied him, Rin dear, even as a little girl. It was so cute watching you struggle with it for years. But you’re a young woman now, and you—” he lifted the hand he used to violate you with and, ever so slowly, began _licking his fingers_. “—can no longer suppress the needs of your body. And your body is screaming for Kirei, isn’t it? If your shouts haven’t called him here yet, then allow me to fetch him so you could express your wanton desires on the man himself.”

“Sh—” you could feel the tears sting but you would not show weakness, “Shut up! Shut your lying whore mouth! You’re a terrible, terrible abomination of a heroic spirit, Gilgamesh! You are no king!”

“Watch your tongue, Rin dear,” he simply narrowed his eyes as he stood up. There were only a few yards separating you. “I’m quite fond of your fiery temper and your equally fascinating violent reactions that accompany it, but never forget your place. I am king. _Your_ king. Everyone’s king.”

He reached out to grab you by the left arm, fingernails burrowing on the place where he knows your crest was located.

Neither of you spoke for a few moments.

All you could think about was how much you wanted to hurt him. You wanted to hurt him in the one way you know you could. You’ve read his legend so many times over the years. You can’t be certain if all that was written about it was true but you’re far too angry and humiliated to care.

“A king who would take a virgin forcibly because he feels it was his right? That’s how you like it, isn’t it?” you said as you put all your rage in each word, “But who put a stop to this king’s cruel maltreatment of the women in his kingdom, huh? Who put his foot down and challenged the king to grow up and stop being a spoiled little bitch? Who else would do it but the beast made of clay whom the gods created to be his equal—Enkidu?”

You could feel your entire body trembling as Goldie—Gilgamesh’s eyes darkened impossibly from the moment you uttered his late friend’s name. His grip loosened on your arm but he looked absolutely terrifying now. Although you are scared shitless as to what he will do next, it doesn’t excuse the fact that he just raped you. You would never apologize for this. He raped you! And you will make him regret that in the only way you knew would wound him.

“If only Enkidu had seen what you have done to me…” you said under your breath, lowering your gaze. Your heart was beating hurtfully against your chest. You can’t move. You can’t run. But you have to, you know you have to.

He will strike you down from where you stand. You have to run!

Gilgamesh didn’t kill you. His eyes hardened as he simply raised his hand, and slapped you hard enough in the face that you collapsed back to the floor. Before you could recover, he was already walking out of your room. You could taste some blood in your mouth as your tongue traced a loose tooth near your cheek.

Still, you didn’t cry, knowing you have won that battle. But you’re not so sure you could survive the next.

 

 

 

++++++

 

 

And so you didn’t sleep for the rest of the night. You washed yourself clean and applied healing magic on your bruised cheek. And then you waited by Kirei’s bedroom door until he woke up around six in the morning. You forced him back inside the room and begged him to let you leave Italy for good. You held onto him in a show of utter desperation and it was in that moment when you realized how completely afraid and alone you are. You had no choice but to tell him that Gilgamesh was the reason for this, although you didn’t care to elaborate no matter how much Kirei insisted. You simply wrapped your arms around him and tightened your grasp. It occurred to you that debasing yourself in the mercy of your guardian as if you’re a damsel in distress is a preferable form of humiliation than to suffer whatever Gilgamesh’s next plan of attack against you. So you stood there holding Kirei, and he showed no indication that he minded.

You calmed down enough to release him so you can look him in the eye. For the first time in years, you told Kirei, “I am trusting you with my life. Please, Kirei. Please, _please_ help me and let me go back to Japan. I beg of you!”

Kirei frowned. You could see in his expression that he was debating the next course of action. Finally, he sighed and placed his hands gently on your shoulders. He explained in that monotonous tone that was surprisingly comforting to you all of a sudden, “I understand. I will make the proper arrangements for your departure. But in the meantime, if you truly fear for your safety, I will make you stay in the nearby convent to the church where I preside. You will remain there in their care until I deem it necessary for you to go.”

“And Gilgamesh?”

“I will handle Gilgamesh,” he said in a resolute tone. “Now summon for Alenka so she can help you pack your things.”

“Can you please…” you swallowed something hard in your throat, “…stay close?”

Kirei nodded as he lowered his hands from your shoulders. “I will be right here to make sure you are safe, Rin. I guarantee that.”

Overcome by a mixture of fear, anxiety and now relief, you gripped him by the shoulder and tiptoed so you could kiss him on the cheek. It lasted for a few seconds before you completely pulled away and asked to be excused. Kirei granted you permission to leave but you noticed him walking just a few steps behind you as you hurried to rouse the maid Alenka to help you with your things.

Kirei kept his promise to you, and stayed close for the entire day.

Around noon, he drove you to the convent and provided an explanation to the nuns who otherwise welcomed you in their sanctuary anyway, provided that you observed their rules under their care. Kirei helped you carry your bags to the room you’re going to be staying in.

“Be good, Rin,” he simply said before he made his leave.

“Kirei!” you called out.

He paused to look back, waiting for you to say something else.

“Th-Thank you…”

Kirei narrowed his eyes and then allowed himself that tiny smirk again. He walked back to your spot and shocked you speechless when he bent down and kissed you on the top of your head. You supposed the gesture was one of his annoying attempts to be parental. He said blankly, “You’re very welcome, Rin.”

You watched him go without saying another word.

As much as it pains you physically because Gilgamesh is an asshole and a pervert, he was still entirely correct about one thing.

It doesn’t mean you’re not going to hate him anymore, but you do  _like_ Kirei.

And maybe for now you can hate him a little less.

 

 

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	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kirei and Gilgamesh enjoy themselves

 

 

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**Deliverance**

 

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Beneath you the King of Heroes looked like any other man caught up in the heat and thrill of sex and submission, and you knew right then that you could touch yourself for years just by retrieving this memory of your shared lust together. Gilgamesh looked less of a heroic figure now, and more like someone who had undergone utter degradation—and he is lovelier like this more than anything else you could remember. His lips were still smudged with spots of dry blood and glistening with spit, and there were visible bite marks on his throat and shoulders which you marked him most savagely with. The usual red glow of his serpentine eyes dimmed for a brief moment as he stared up at you, and surprise also crossed his features, probably due to the statements you have made in earnest after he asked you about the things that you most coveted.

You wanted to unleash every manner of havoc and destruction upon the world, and you wanted Gilgamesh to be by your side to enjoy and celebrate the decay and wreckage in the aftermath. You imagined him standing on the top of a pile of dead and burned bodies—naked, imposing and perfect much like he was on the day of the Great Fire in Fuyuki. Meanwhile, you were on the foot of the pile of cadavers, gazing up at Gilgamesh like he was the second coming and the antithesis of everything your father and his holy doctrine has taught you.

“Beautiful,” you hear him murmur in awe as he lay beneath you now, and his strong arms secured you in a possessive hold. He looked at you in a way that you haven’t seen before. “Your parents have named you ‘beautiful’.”

You could only blink at him as he tugged you closer until your breaths mingled. Almost like a secret, he whispered into your mouths, “And oh, aren’t you just?”

Being a brutal, malicious and unapologetic demigod and king, Gilgamesh did the most shocking thing to you yet: the kiss he bequeathed this time was unexpectedly slow and steady; it was more of a playfully soft meeting of lips and the gentle caress of tongue than the clash of teeth from moments ago. He slid his tongue against yours in leisurely strokes and then withdrew only a little to capture your lips on his own in a display of unfamiliar affection and tenderness as if you weren’t a monster whose bloodlust he has awoken ten years ago, and he wasn’t a mighty antediluvian who had experienced every darkness and triumph. The kiss was simply uncalled for, and made you think for a moment that you two could be different people, as if neither of you was ever rotten or soiled, and you resented him a little for that.

So you can’t help but stiffen in his grasp, unable to respond to his kiss for a whole minute. Your jaw felt slack while your chest was now number than ever. Gilgamesh didn’t seem to care. He swirled his tongue around yours and then started suckling on it as one hand gripped you by the hair while the other cupped your cheek. You could feel the pool of arousal at the pit of your stomach again, making your muscles tense up. Almost as if in a daze, you took your cock in your fist and slowly pushed yourself inside him again, inch by inch. The slick sensation of blood from earlier has now dried and so the flesh resisted the invasion. You clutched at the armrest above his head and pushed in, in, in.

The effect was interesting. Gilgamesh stopped kissing you so he can groan towards the ceiling instead. He winced because of the painful contact but he was still smiling, eyes screwed shut tightly as he dug his nails at your back, clawing and drawing blood. You held your stance halfway in, wishing to prolong his agony. He answered by further digging his nails, scraping your skin. In response, you pushed in fully and swallowed his wounded groan by burying your mouth on his again. You jabbed your tongue in mercilessly, and did not hesitate to bite his lips raw for the third time. You pulled back to enjoy the sight of his bloodied mouth and the sensation of his sore hole still tight and hot around your cock. Everything has narrowed down to this filthy act of penetration and bloodletting.

Gilgamesh glared at you with intense foreboding as he declared between shortened breaths, “You will—have your— _uhh_! Moment too, you— _hmm_! Whore of a priest—AH! I intend to inflict— _ughnnnn_ …you with thrice—AH! The excursion!” He removed his hands from behind your back and very viciously clawed your face with his fingers. You managed to close your eyes just in time. Your nose and portions of both cheeks took most of the damage. You felt them sting as the skin cracked and blood seeped through. You could easily apply healing magic but that would have been too easy.

The King of Heroes was grinning now as he lifted himself up enough to run his tongue across your face to lick the gashes he caused.

“So beautiful…” he murmured.

“No,” you almost growled at him. “I am not.”

“So insecure,” Gilgamesh chuckled and then he grabbed you by the forearms and commanded you, “Spill your seed inside me already. I want to use your mouth to my own purpose and I shall not be denied any longer!”

To demonstrate this, he grinded back against your thrusts impatiently this time, forcing you to increase speed. You obeyed and grabbed his legs so you can bend him forcefully in half for a more accessible and enjoyable angle.

You burrowed your knees on the cushion and pounded into him. The strain of reaching the desired destination took only another minute as you slammed into him, hard and demanding, while the King of Heroes matched your pace by lifting his hips to meet yours in eager and stubborn response. He continued to glare at you through the haze of lust, cursing you for drawing this out so needlessly. Even in this supposedly submissive role, Gilgamesh was in control as he pounded one fist repeatedly on your chest in time of each thrust.

“Come on, Kirei!” he almost shouted now as he sneered, “Fuck me like your cock is a sword and you are slicing my body with it! I know that’s how you’re imagining this!” He pushed back into your cock, rolling his hips upwards in a sharp, jagged rhythm. “Go on, you perverted cur! Your king compels you!”

“Shut! Up!” you held him by the ankles now and thrust forward, unleashing every violence you have always intended to inflict on him but had suppressed for a long time. “You! Do Not! Command! Me!” With a final, devastating plunge, you let one of his legs go so you can reach out for this throat and throttle him. You emptied yourself to the sight of the King of Heroes choking. You dropped his other leg again to squeeze his cock so you can prevent him from coming.

Gilgamesh has never looked so angry as he shouted, “Damn you!” and gripped your arm and twisted it. You pulled out of him so abruptly and laughed because you knew that it would have stung for him. But Gilgamesh was far too busy turning you around so he can switch your positions. The couch gave in with a loud thud below the both of you as he slammed you on your back to the cushion this time. Without warning, he simply sat on your chest and forced his cock down your throat. You almost wanted to bite him but resisted. Instead, you burrowed your nails on his hips and tried to hollow your cheeks. It only took him a few short thrusts into your mouth before he was spilling himself in an explosion of mess, and you were forced to breathe through your nose just so you wouldn’t suffocate on his cum.

As soon as he pulled out, you instinctively lifted your head and coughed, gasping for air and relief. Gilgamesh reached down to grab your jaw and insert two fingers inside your mouth, probing until you started choking and spitting out what was left of his seed that you were unable to swallow, including some remnants of blood. The King of Heroes laughed as he watched you struggle.

“You look absurdly ravaged, Kirei!” he was saying between chuckles of approval as he folded his legs under him and pulled you by the hair so you would look at him. He was now petting your hair as he cooed. “Such a good mongrel…good, good, obedient mongrel,” he scratched your chin and then laughed once more.

You sat up and then hunched over, resting your elbows on your knees. In spite of the scratchiness in your throat, you found yourself chuckling as well, almost convulsing because of unadulterated mirth as you placed your hand in front of your eyes. _What manner of savagery and debauchery_ , you thought to yourself in satisfaction. Your shoulders shook. Your entire being trembled. And Gilgamesh slid closer to wrap an arm around your back, tracing his fingers on the fresh marks he made on your flesh earlier. The sensation of skin against skin stung once more, but you welcomed it nevertheless and removed your hand from your eyes so you can gaze at the King of Heroes in bewildered gratitude.

“If only I knew…” you whispered, voice still raspy. You coughed again to clear your voice. “If only I knew,” you continued, “that claiming you like that would be so entertaining and blissful—I would have done it several times in the past. In Fuyuki. In Prague. In the Vatican inside the old churches. At the whorehouse during my birthday. I would have already fucked you across the seven continents, Gilgamesh. I would have made you bleed and come for me over and over…” you leaned closer and closer until he was pushed back into the cushion. You sneered at him as you muttered under your breath “…and over and over and over again.”

“Such an ambitious endeavor, my eager fool.” Beneath you, the King of Heroes shook his head in amusement and pulled you closer with one arm propped across your shoulder in a relaxed stance. He used his other hand to rake through your hair, nails scratching through your scalp. “And one I would let you indulge one of these days. We have more pressing concerns to attend to, unfortunately.”

“I don’t care about them anymore,” you then bit down hard on his shoulder, leaving him with yet another imprint which you know will bloom into a dark bruise days from now. You traced the marks of your teeth with your tongue as you sucked the skin. In response, Gilgamesh chuckled and pushed a thumb through one of the wounds he inflicted on your back.

“I never really got to ask you before,” he said, “The scars on your back—did you do them all yourself?”

“Yes,” you quickly replied as you busied yourself with licking your bite mark.

“Hmmm? Why did you do it then?”

You shrugged. “Penance.”

“For what?” Gilgamesh pulled you by the hair again so you could look at him.

“It’s a ritual,” you explained. “A practice handed down where practitioners would use a thorny whip to lash on their backs during hours of prayer and meditation. Some Catholics would flagellate during the Holy Week, usually performing the ritual during a procession. It’s a common practice among other faiths as well.”

Gilgamesh cocked an eyebrow. “And what exactly were you repenting for?”

“A lot of things,” you answered, furrowing your eyebrows. “That should have been obvious. I was…lost for so long.”

The King of Heroes pursed his lips before he asked, “Do you still flagellate?”

You smirked. “Do you want to whip me yourself, my king?”

He considered it for a moment. Afterwards he grinned and replied, “Only if you truly desire it so, Kirei. I personally find the practice barbaric, but I would not falter if you ask it of me.”

“You are so generous, Gilgamesh,” you muttered as you stuck out your tongue to lick some of the dried blood from his bruised lips. He answered by meeting your tongue with his own and you sucked and tasted each other for a few more languid moments before you finally offered to heal him.

“I ruptured your rectum,” you stated in a-matter-of-factly. “But then again, you also tore into my robes earlier which have Kevlar and imbued magic in them.”

“Obviously comparable things,” Gilgamesh almost rolled his eyes at you.

“I spared your precious jacket, didn’t I?” you remarked, though not seriously, “so surely you could have at least done me the same courtesy.”

“Spare the fake indignation for someone else, Kirei.”

You finally got off him and sat up, grabbing the nearest item of clothing within reach which were your trousers. “That being said, I will, however, leave these…” with a hand, you gestured at the decorative bite marks on his throat and shoulders, “…so you can remember me by.”

“Such a romantic,” Gilgamesh chuckled as he lifted himself up using his elbows to smile crudely at you. He waited for you to get up first before he implanted his feet on the cushion and spread his legs apart. He winced just a little and you couldn’t help but feel almost human inside with the knowledge that he was still probably sore and raw from all the brutal fucking you just gave him.

“Well?” the King of Heroes shot you an impatient look. 

You sighed softly and reached out a hand below so you can begin healing. The faint glow and electricity emanated between the two of you, establishing a smooth flow of magic from your hand to his flesh. Gilgamesh’s shoulders relaxed as he watched your hand beneath him through half-lidded eyes. You brushed your fingers through the ring of muscles, and couldn’t help but recall their tightness and heat around your cock moments ago, and the way it felt to fill the passage with your own seed. Your expression must have given away this dirty thought because when you glanced back at Gilgamesh, he was smirking widely with a raised eyebrow. You felt your own lips doing the same.

You healed the scratches on your face next. It was seconds after the healing process was accomplished when you heard footsteps coming down the office. With a quick reflex, you pulled your trousers up and picked up what was left of your molested cassock and put it on. You spared Gilgamesh a glance—and the King of Heroes looked undisturbed. He was just watching you the entire time.

“You could at least close your legs,” you remarked as you slapped him lightly on the knees so he would do as you asked. He naturally didn’t. Gilgamesh just slid back to the cushion, placing his arms behind the back of his head. He smiled innocently. You picked up his jacket from the chair and quickly dumped it on his lap. And then the door burst open without warning, almost as if someone kicked their way through it as oppose to turning the knob, and Rin Tohsaka barged in.

She was glaring right at you, ignoring everything else in the room as she spoke up, “I’ve been waiting and waiting, _and waiting_ outside the gates of the church for half an hour now, Kirei! And it was _so_ cold out! We had a deal! Now where is that jerkface manwhore—!”

She turned her head just in time to spot Gilgamesh who stood up from the couch to greet her. He opened his arms as if to welcome her in an embrace. The jacket, however, slithered down the floor.

Rin could only step back in abject horror.

A second passed. And then another. And another.

Fully recovering from the shock, Rin took a deep breath, huffing her cheeks. She then picked up the chair from the corner and hurled it right at Gilgamesh as she let out a growl. The King of Heroes anticipated the move seconds before the impact, and managed to sidestep to the left to avoid it. He stood there, unscathed and very much exposed.

"Of all the nights to be screwing each other, you pick this one!" she screeched at both of you. "And for fuck's sakes, Goldie, COVER YOURSELF!"

 

 

* * *

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone makes compromises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, readers. You may have noticed that I've been posting updates very quickly between chapters and there is a simple reason for that: I have scheduled this piece of fiction to be my priority for the month of April which meant I put my other fics for other fandoms on-hold just to focus on KotoGil. However, it is my deepest regret to inform you all that the month is almost over, and I have to take a hiatus from KotoGil in order to switch priorities this time. Realistically speaking, I'll be updating this again in January 2017. It's a two-month wait that I hope you could all be patient with. In the meantime, enjoy this chapter. Think of this as the end of the first season of a show. As a compensation, I made an official music mix for this fic and I hope you can enjoy listening to it while you read this story. Thank you very much for all the reviews and support! <3
> 
>   
> [DOWNLOAD HERE](http://www.mediafire.com/download/tovccta3srieb8f/FiCKG303.rar)  
> 

* * *

 

 

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**Balance of Power**

 

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"Of all the nights to be screwing each other, you pick this one!" Rin shouted in that endearingly neurotic way you remember very well. It was such a nostalgic treat that was almost enough to make you forget about her past sins. _Almost_.

She glared sharply at your direction, focusing really, _really_ hard not to let her gaze wonder down the rest of your magnificent naked form, the poor thing. “And for fuck’s sakes, Goldie, cover yourself!”

You didn’t bother answering her just yet. Instead, you picked at the few splinters of wood that did land on your shoulder after she tried to attack you with that chair. Always such a spoiled drama princess, you thought to yourself.

The splinters didn’t burrow that deep on the skin so you easily took them out, ignoring the blood that seeped through. You merely wiped it with a finger and licked that finger clean, doing so as slowly and as suggestively as you could afford as Rin watched. She did not like that at all.

Or maybe it was already making her wet. It’s hard to tell with Rin sometimes.

You spared Kirei a glance now. His expression was neutral enough, but you know better. He was a bit embarrassed not by the fact that Rin just caught you in the aftermath of your indiscretion. No, he’s a little upset because of Rin’s ‘un-lady-like’ behavior. The priest had always been such a stickler to traditional gender roles. It made you wonder every now and then what his late wife must have been like. Judging only by her frugal taste in furniture and decor based on the villa back in Italy, you can’t help but conclude that Claudia must have been quite bland. But personally, the only thing you most approved of in this contemporary time is how more independent and challenging the women have become. It had made a lot of your conquests over the years more playful and exciting.

Rin now walked towards you to pick up your jacket on the floor. She was about to slam it across your face but you managed to grab it in time. “I SAID PUT SOMETHING ON! I am not talking to you until you are properly dressed, dammit!”

You said nothing and slid your arms inside the jacket easily enough. And then you sat back down the couch, resting your arms on the ledge as you swung your legs apart in the most cavalier way you could manage. You grinned at her.

Rin was more furious than before, “WHERE THE HELL ARE YOUR PANTS!?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “You didn’t specify.”

“THAT GOES WITHOUT SAYING, YOU JERK!”

“Rin, it’s eleven in the evening. You shouldn't shout.”

She glared back at the priest. “NO ONE’S GOING TO HEAR ME ANYWAY!”

“This is the house of God.”

Rin looked like she wanted to kick Kirei in the head. “Oh, that’s right. Yes, _suuure_ , this is the house of God. And you also told me you honor your vows, and that you will never take a lover, let alone one who is a man _especially_ Goldie. But hey, here we are!” She opened her arms in an exaggerated manner to gesture at the office in disarray. Clothing was strewn on the floor, mostly yours. A chair has been demolished next to you, and there are still remnants of blood and cum clinging to the edge of the couch (and which Rin was _yet_ to notice).

“You know what, shut up!” Rin was still scolding Kirei, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “You don’t get to tell me _anything_ anymore, you fake priest!”

You couldn’t help the laughter that forced itself out of you as you listened to her rant. “Rin,” you began, “dearest,” you added with a sweet smile, “it's been three years, hasn't it, darling? Now as completely riveting this reunion has been, I must ask the purpose of your visit here,” you crossed your leg on top of another, finally deciding she doesn’t have to stare at your cock if you two are to have a civil discussion.

“Didn’t Kirei tell you?” Rin stomped her foot once on the floor as she angrily flipped her hair and then shot you an accusatory finger as well, “I’m here because I need you to stop fucking around with Shinji Matou. It’s distracting and immature, even for the likes of you! Look, I know he is your Master but can’t you just nullify that contract or something? It’s not like he would even dare try to use command seals on you! Shinji is a coward. He should never have been allowed to participate in the Grail War,” she turned the finger at Kirei, “and you shouldn’t have given him Goldie after he lost Rider! What were you thinking?!”

Kirei merely placed his hands behind his back in a stance of absolute calm. You kept grinning as you watched the rest of this fascinating interaction.

“I understand and respect the gravity of the situation as you so eloquently explained it, Rin.” Kirei replied, his voice as deep and monotonous as usual, and not at all the voice of a man who moments ago was convulsing violently as he tried to spit out your cum. The memory made you chuckle to yourself.

“That being said,” Kirei spared you a small glace when he heard you laughing but then returned his attention back on Rin seconds after as he continued, “Shinji Matou is a participant who is in contract with an available servant at hand. There is nothing you could do about it. You just have to accept that he is a worthy rival to your claim for victory. Nothing either of us could do can discredit his role in the War,” he took a few steps closer to Rin now, “and so I suggest that you drop this pointless venture regarding your qualms with the Matou boy, so we can really discuss the real point of this meeting.”

Now you leaned close, perching your chin in one of your hands as you rest your elbows on your knees. “Oh? And what is the real point of this meeting, Kirei?”

Instead of answering you directly, he merely asked, “Rin? Care to comment?”

“About what?” she furrowed her eyebrows together. “I only came here because I want to complain about Shinji and Goldie’s behavior, and you turned down those completely valid complaints so casually. No surprise—you’re a dick.”

Kirei noticeably didn’t appreciate being deemed as such but he said nothing and listened to Rin rant on, “So thanks a lot, Kirei. This has been a grand waste of time. I shouldn’t have come here in the first place. Sorry to interrupt your night. You may resume being a hypocrite and a liar as I see my way out.”

“The real reason you are here,” Kirei interjected, “and the real point of this meeting are one and the same,” he paused. “You came here to make amends with Gilgamesh, and he is here as well to make amends with you.”

You honestly did not expect that, “What—?”

“—the fuck?” And Rin obviously didn’t either.

Kirei nodded in a mockingly empathetic way as a small smirk touched his lips. He bent down to pick up your pants from the ground and then tossed it to your direction. “Please be decent in front of the lady, Gilgamesh,” he remarked. And then he gestured a hand to the couch where you are sitting on and asked Rin, “please take a seat and let us start the process.”

“No,” was her curt response, glaring daggers at Kirei.

“Rin…” Kirei sounded so patient and calm that even you were getting annoyed.

“No,” you answered him this time as you dropped the pants on the floor and uncrossed your legs so you could slide down a little and expose yourself some more. Rin grimaced and turned away from you.

“Gilgamesh…” Now Kirei was using the same tone as he addressed you.

“Don’t even dare,” you hardened your gaze as you held his.

“Now, now,” Kirei was chuckling, clearly enjoying this. “I think we all know that whatever quarrels you may have in the past should be resolved by now. The two of you used to be so close after all—”

“To hell with that!” Rin turned sharply and gritted her teeth.

“—and I think both of you just need to talk about your problems here in this safe space; to discuss your feelings in a straightforward manner, and eventually arrive together in a powerful moment of healing and forgiveness.”

You could feel your jaw drop. How the hell was Kirei able not to start laughing at the stupidity and obvious sarcasm of his words?

Rin was right—he is a dick.

“STOP TALKING!” Rin demanded with another stomp of her foot.

“Rin,” Kirei spoke more firmly now as he placed a hand on her shoulder. Her own eyes narrowed as soon as his hand made contact but she kept her mouth shut as he spoke, “this may be the only opportunity you have to tell me exactly what happened in Italy between you and Gilgamesh. I tried asking him but he was just as close-mouthed about it. But I think you don’t have to be anymore. This is a safe space. I could only start facilitating an open discussion if you start acting like your age this time,” you could tell that he was giving her shoulder a firmer squeeze, “and admit to me the cause of this problem. I only aim to help, Rin. And did you not say long ago that you now trust me with your life?”

Rin shot back, “And now you’re making me regret saying that!”

“This,” you called out from where you sat, “…is dumb.”

Rin and Kirei now looked at you. As soon as you have their attention, you stood up and walked to their direction, one hand on your hip. “I will not partake in such an obvious appeal to melodrama. Rin and I don’t have any unfinished business to resolve, and even if we do, Kirei…” you glared at him, weighing your words, “it is of no concern of yours from this point on. You will drop this ridiculous attempt of yours to mediate, or I will severely punish you in our next—” you paused and then smiled at your choice of phrase, “—‘tumble in the hay’.”

“Goooodd!” Rin brought both hands to her ears. “I’m deaf now!” Her eyes fell to the rest of your body and then she screwed her eyes shut. “And blind! I’m deaf and blind now, thanks a lot! And by the way, _grandpa_ , a little outdated for a euphemism, don’t you think?”

“Unless there’s actual hay involved,” you answered her. “And I’m not saying there won’t be.” You then gave Kirei a wink.

“UGGGGGHHHH!” Rin started running blindly to the farthest corner of the office and away from the both of you. She faced the wall and sat on her haunches, still holding her hands against her ears.

You were going to tease Rin some more when her servant makes an unscheduled and unacceptable appearance inside the room.

“Archer?” Kirei looked genuinely surprised as well.

Rin turned around and gasped. “Hey!” she called out. “I told you to stay away!”

The faker crossed his arms and answered her. “I could hear you shouting nonsense. I felt inclined to interrupt.”

“What the hell does that supposed to mean?” Rin marched towards her servant and shoved him hard but the faker remained firm on ground. But Rin was also undeterred. “Just get out! This doesn’t concern you!”

“You better listen to your master, dog,” you decided to join in because looking at this faker is really starting to get under your skin.

“Don’t talk to him like that!” Rin actually defended the foul cur. “And you!” she pointed at her servant. “When I tell you to come, sometimes you are late. And now that I don’t want you here, you still came anyway. What is your problem?!”

Instead of answering her, the faker looked at you in the eye. And then his gaze dropped lower. He looked you in thee eye again and you just smiled at him. With nothing to say to that, the faker just scoffed, merely shutting his eyes as he finally replied to Rin, “It’s hard to ignore you when you scream.”

“I wasn’t in any kind of trouble,” Rin looked apologetic, however.

“I suppose this guy—” he nodded at you, “and his unsheathed sword was no threat at all? Forgive my mistake, but I’ve thought of you as a maid.”

You may hate the mongrel’s guts but he sure knew exactly how to embarrass Rin; almost as well as yourself and Kirei.

“Wh-What?!” Rin was so red in the cheeks. “I-I am a maid! I-If you mean…if I’m a virgin…then yes, dammit!” She shoved the faker hard on the shoulder again, “What? You expect me to cry just because some guy exposed himself to me! It’s not the first penis I’ve seen, I’ll tell you that! There are…pictures…” she trailed off, covering her mouth when she realized she was justifying herself way too much. She looked between the faker and you nervously, dreading which one would make the nastier comment.

You decided to ask the obvious. “What type of pornography does Rin Tohsaka subscribe to then? Are these magazines? Maybe something found online?”

Rin kicked you in the shin. You merely laughed it off.

“My deepest apologies, master,” the faker responded, bowing his head in show of contrition, “I didn’t mean to put you in such a humiliating position. I was truly concerned about your welfare, and it was not my intention to impugn your honor as a lady. That being said, I think I have very valid reasons to be worried, considering the company you keep.” He shot you a sharp glare.

You opened your arms, “It’s such a splendid thing to see that my darling princess has a very loyal though lowly guard dog at her command. But listen well, you cur. I will spare you from a vicious slaughter tonight only because it has already been an exasperating night for Rin dear here,” you nodded at her once and then gave her a wink, “and I don’t want to further get into her bad side.”

You took a deep breath and then let it out as you addressed the priest behind you. “You are right, Kirei. I suppose I don’t mind repairing bridges with her. It seems to me there are still a great many entertaining things she could offer me.”

“Go to hell, Goldie!” Rin was livid now. The sight of her face twisted in youthful rage accompanied by her unfiltered crass language was making you…well, _hard_. Perhaps you should have put on pants after all. No matter. You placed your hands on your hips, spread your legs further apart, and allowed your manhood for more room to spring free. Rin screeched and covered her eyes when she realized once again that you were still naked, and the faker took a step before her to shield her from you. He was frowning deeply as he met your gaze.

“You dare soil my master’s view?” the faker muttered quietly but there was threat to his voice you do not intend to overlook.

Before the tension breaks into a deluge, Kirei finally stopped being an observant of all this and spoke up.

“Rin,” he said, “I think I may have had the most brilliant idea to set aside differences and any further misunderstandings.”

The three of you waited.

Kirei folded his arms in front of him, his smirk widening just a little. “Perhaps Rin should be a gracious hostess and invite all of us to dinner at her mansion some time. I think it could be a great stepping stone to repair these bridges you speak of, Gilgamesh.”

The silence lasted for several seconds. No one dared to reply.

Finally, Rin did. She stepped out from behind the faker and announced, “Sure, Kirei. We can do that. We can be civil and proper and friendly.” There is a dangerous edge to the way she said that. She added, “But only if my servant, Archer, would sit and dine with us as well.”

“Master, I’d rather not—”

Rin simply raised a hand to silence the faker. It actually worked.

You could feel Kirei watching you now. You turned your attention to him as he asked, “Well, what do you say to that invitation?”

You _hmmm_ -ed and then inspected your fingernails as you answered, “If you intend to crowd the dinner with guests, why not invite some more unworthy cur while you’re at it, Rin dear? Perhaps…that boy toy of yours—Shirou Emiya, is it?”

“Wh—” Rin blinked fast. She was blushing again.

“Ah yes,” you looked at Kirei first as you smiled and then back at Rin as your grin widened. “He is also Saber’s master, is he not? If he comes, she might as well.”

From the corner of your eye, you could see Kirei’s posture go stiff. You could sense his dismay. That was a notable reaction. You filed that at the back of your head to question him later with.

But then the priest had the gull to suggest, “Since we are opening this dinner to both masters and servants of the War, we should extend the invitation to your master as well, Gilgamesh. Shinji Matou has every right to be informed of—”

“What is it with you and always giving that goddamn asshole some leeway and privilege?” Rin shot back, “is he sucking your cock or something, Kirei?”

You chuckled in spite of yourself as the faker sighed, obviously embarrassed for his master’s lackadaisical way with being verbally vulgar while you are more than accustomed to it.

Kirei ignored Rin and asked you instead. “What do you say, Gilgamesh? Rin will bring her Archer, Emiya her Saber, and you with Shinji,” he paused. “That sounds like a very reasonable number of guests. Do you approve of it, Rin?”

The three of you stood there, exchanging hardened glances. None among you was going to back out or give way for the other until your own demand is agreed to. Kirei was smirking the entire time, obviously very pleased with the development. Rin was fuming, but you can see the gears in her head turning, possibly in the process of figuring out how to turn this incident to her advantage. You, on the other hand, have quickly lost your erection by the prospect of having to deal with the faker and Shinji together in closed quarters.

But Saber might come.

 _No, she_ _will definitely come_. You just have to play this right.

So you spoke up first, “Yes, this is acceptable. The king approves.”

Rin rolled her eyes at you and muttered under her breath. “Wow, try saying that with less of a chubby, would you?”

“You noticed?” you turned your body towards her and she let out another ungodly squeal and hurriedly found your pants and threw it across you.

“Then it is settled,” Kirei said, “I expect you will make all the necessary arrangements since you are hosting, Rin?”

“Absolutely,” Rin couldn’t sound any less enthused about agreeing to it. She bit her lower lip for a few seconds before she said, “Yeah, if that’s all then…goodnight, jerks.”

She turned around to leave out of the door, her servant trailing after her.

You heard Kirei let out a sigh next to you, but you paid no attention to it and started pulling up your pants. A whole minute only passed before Lancer materialized in the office. You scoffed as you zipped up.

Lancer surveyed the destruction in the room but made no comment about it. Instead, he asked Kirei. “I take it I’m not invited to your dinner party, master?”

Kirei would have replied but you beat him to it.

“Of course you can come!” you sneered. “We do need a dog to stand on guard outside the house after all.”

Lancer narrowed his eyes and only said, “I’d say ‘fuck you’, Gilgamesh, but we both know my master already did.” And then he was gone.

You were stunned into momentary silence but Kirei was not.

He started laughing. It was the first time he sounded completely happy.

                                 

 

 

 

++++++

 

 

 

 

**Ten years ago**

 

Kirei is standing over you the moment you open your eyes. It is still dark out, and you wonder briefly what he is doing in your room. You are going to impose that question when your stomach suddenly grumbles and you have to clutch at it in hopes of appeasing its persistent ache. When it happens, it always makes you curl slightly, lifting your knees to your chin as you shut your eyes and try to ignore how much it stings and makes you gratingly vulnerable. There is a blanket on you, so at least the priest doesn’t have to see you squirm although you are pretty sure he must have guessed what you’ve been going through for almost three weeks now, given the way he leans to touch a hand on your temple in an almost soothing way as if he has done this before many times.

You are going to slap his hand and unwanted concern away because you do not need the mongrel’s pity, but then he says, “I have a solution for your ailment. Come with me,” and then he pulls away to head towards the door.

You kick the blanket off you and sit up, glaring at his direction. There is hardly any light and so you could only perceive the outline of his person as a shadow.  But his scent is unmistakable. Kirei always smells of incense and sandalwood—often mixed with someone else’s blood. Both combinations have been equally appealing to you. Right now, however, you find his presence an invasion of privacy so you demand, “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what you speak of when you said you have a solution.”

Kirei lets out a chuckle. You can just picture the malicious smile that accompanies it. You feel even sicker to your stomach.

“It’s better if I show you, King of Heroes…” he trails off as he opens the door. The hallway is just as dark outside, and his figure steps out without hesitation and begins to walk. You already hate this but you begin to follow the echoes of his steps anyway. It was only after a whole minute passed when you finally feel his hand reach for your arm to clutch it so he can lead you to down the staircase which you recognize as the one leading to the basement.

“What is the meaning of this, Kirei?” your voice sounds too meek to your liking. The physical strain of hunger is more overpowering than you thought.

“Hush, Gilgamesh,” he merely answers as his hold loosens. His fingers start rubbing you in yet another consoling manner. You don’t mind anymore. You don’t care if Kirei is deriving pleasure from your suffering in this moment since you are the one who encouraged him time and time again to embrace his twisted nature. You’d be a hypocrite if you forbid him from enjoying this, even if it is at your expense. You don’t care. You just want to stop feeling this massive hunger.

“The Grail has granted you true incarnation,” Kirei is saying as he opens the door to the basement, “and although you don’t need mana anymore, your body apparently still craves for a magical transference. Simple food as fuel and pleasure would just not cut it.”

“You are right. Now I need you to get to your point before I strike you, Kirei. I may be hungry, but I’m not weakened to the point that I can’t put you in your place.” To demonstrate, you punch him without warning. Your fist collides with his nose and you feel it crack. It is a satisfying sound—until Kirei laughs.

In spite of his display of insolence, you are chuckling as well. “I should have known you’re a damn masochist,” you remark. “Always so full of surprises, aren’t you, my little fool?”

Kirei makes no response except to laugh low and place his hand on your shoulder. “Please,” he says, “let me appease your troubles, my king.”

“Drop the boring pretense of formal address, fool. You are not Tokiomi,” you shake his grip away and fix your eyes instead before you where the door is ajar. There is an aroma you don’t recognize coming from within. You lick your lips without being completely aware of it. “Now,” you tell him as you take one step closer, “…show me what’s inside the basement.”

Kirei actually offers his hand for you to take. Without thinking much about it, you acquiesce. He pushes the door wide open and leads you now inside the basement. Everything feels damp and cold as you shuffle your feet on the ground. Kirei tugs your hand he is still holding, guiding you closer to something, until you are touching what felt like wood beneath your palm. There are no lights to be found at all. Something tells you that you shouldn’t expect them, not in this place whose stench you finally recognize as foul and luscious all at once.

“What is it?” you can’t help how your voice trembles as your fingers probe at the wood, nails digging into its surface, so desperate to lift up the lid. Kirei’s hand stays on top of yours but you hear other movements from him such as helping you push the lid open as well. It drops on the ground booming loud and clear.

“I wouldn’t call it mere sustenance,” the priest speaks next to you, far too close and real for comfort. His hand has found its way on your back, almost without full awareness, “so let’s settle for ‘offering’. I hope it would please you.”

You lean in to what you surmise is the gaping mouth of a coffin.

Someone is encased inside it. You run your other hand across the expanse of its naked flesh. The skin is surprisingly supple. There is a surge of electric heat vibrating on its pores. You almost pull away, as if you would be stung. When you lift your hand, Kirei takes it, pressing it inside his larger hand.

“What is it, Kirei?” if your voice trembles, it’s because you are excited.

“Kiritsugu Emiya has adopted a son,” the priest answers, “it’s one of the orphans who survived the fire in Fuyuki.”

You put your other hand back inside the coffin, murmuring, “and so you decided to adopt one of your own…”

Kirei’s chuckle is upon your ear, low yet cheery. “Not one, Gilgamesh, no. There are still many of them. This one is the first successful conversion, though. But I will work hard on the others soon enough. And my king will have his fill…”

He tightens his grip on your hand as he pushes it forward inside the coffin. The dread and bloodlust coil in your gut as you reach in. The two of you searched blindly for a few moments until your fingers found purchase on a loose flap of skin on the creature’s chest area. Softly, Kirei whispers, “Rip it and pull…”

You did what he asked as Kirei lowers his hand to your wrist this time, clutching it. He kept it there as you slowly guided your hand to your mouth. At first you flicker your tongue on the skin, and then you sucked on it until you gnashed it between your teeth. You couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped you as you swallow.

Kirei’s hot breath is still on your ear. “Is it to your liking, Gilgamesh?”

“You said there are more?” you murmur back, turning your head just a little. You capture his cheek with your lips by accident, but neither of you care.

Kirei's voice is pliant and soft as he says, “yes.”

With his hand still resting on your back, you lean your weight against it. With little effort, Kirei adjusts his body so that you are leaning on his chest instead. His arm wraps around your waist, his fingers splayed on your stomach whose rumblings have now ceased. Your hand reaches inside the coffin again to take another piece of the undying child. You suckle on the fat with one hand while the other reaches behind so you can run your fingers on Kirei’s head, petting his hair. The priest’s breath hitches but he does not stop you.

You turn your head again to say, “A most gracious offering, you fool of mine.”

Even in the dark you know he is smiling. You graze your fingers on those lips to trace that wicked sneer. You swear you could feel the tip of his tongue darting out to taste the undying child’s juices encrusted on your fingers.

You incline your head further back until you could feel his breath on your parted lips. Here in the dark, there is a distinctness to Kirei, a seduction underneath the smells of sandalwood and blood. You consider tasting his joy for a second. It would have been so easy for you know he would not deny you, not your obedient fool.

You hunger for something else now, and he is so close and so real against your body.

But you shake off the thought. Instead, you tell him, “Go attend to the others,” before you tear yourself completely from his grasp so you can glide to the other side of the coffin, forcing him to retreat behind.

“As you command,” he simply says before you hear him walk to another corner of the basement.

It is too easy. You can take him in a carnal dance within this blackness around you, and Kirei will not deny you, and so you dared not.

You attend to your more pressing other hunger instead, and reach for the child inside the coffin, cupping its head by both hands as you pull it close to your mouth so you could sink your teeth to its face and chew.

 

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dinner party is going to be very fun which was why I ended with it as a tease for what is to come for January 2017! A big thanks to readers who have always commented every chapter update. You guys know who you are! Thanks for the encouragement. This work never would have been so enjoyable to write if it wasn't for your constant affirmations! After all, this was originally just an impulse submission which slowly became a multi-chaptered work. Never ever regret shipping KotoGil, guys! <3


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